In Times of Great Need
by Weasley Genetics
Summary: After the war, when grief is raw and emotions powerful, two people who find comfort and understanding in each other, are Harry Potter and George Weasley. DH Spoilers. Ignores the epilouge. Please give it a try?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I'd just like to ask you to give this fic a chance. I can see why a lot of people wouldn't like George/Harry, but I can't help but feel like they could help each other so much after the war. So I'd love it if you did try reading it, and if you like it, well then great. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All J.K. Rowling's.**

Chapter 1

Lord Voldemort was dead. The battle was over. But Harry did not go looking for Ron, or Hermione or Ginny. Instead, he went in search of George Weasley.

Harry looked at the group of grieving redheads, but the tallest of them all was not among them. He turned on his heel, and strode out of The Great Hall. Where would he be? Harry racked his brains for the Twins' regular haunts from their mischievous Hogwarts days. His mind drifted to the Marauder's Map… the passageways.

Harry broke into a run, and climbed the staircase to the tapestry of Wilhelmina the Wizened. He pulled the tapestry aside to see George sitting against the left hand side stone wall. His knees were up and his forearms rested loosely on them. Silent tears soaked his dirtied, bloodstained face. He didn't acknowledge Harry's arrival, but continued to stare at the opposite wall.

Hesitantly, Harry slowly walked towards him, lowered himself down and sat next to him, leaning against the cold, hard stone.

George had suffered the ultimate loss. He'd lost a part of himself. And it was Harry's fault.

They sat in silence for what felt like, and probably was, hours; both just staring at the plain, grey wall, as if it said everything they would need to understand why this had had to happen. Why Fred, Remus, Tonks, Snape, Colin, why all those people had to die.

Finally, Harry couldn't bare it any longer.

"I'm so sorry, George," he croaked.

"Harry, don't you dare blame yourself. It's my fault," the surviving twin whispered.

"How? If I'd given myself up earlier Fred would probably still be alive, and so would Remus and Tonks. It's all my-"

"No," George interrupted, "Harry please." He looked at him for the first time. "Don't."

Harry saw the painful desperation in George's eyes, which was more life in them than he'd seen in a while. And it hurt him.

"None of this is your fault. None of it. As for Fred … it should have been me," he held up a hand to stop Harry interrupting, "I should have been there," his voice was a faint, painful whisper, "Fred was the leader, the better one of us. The one with the ideas, the confidence, everything." Once again, Harry opened his mouth to argue but George shook his head, his voice growing louder and more passionate and pained. _"He _would have been fine without me, _he _would have been able to go on._ He _would have been stronger, done better things …" he couldn't speak anymore, and buried his face in his hands.

Harry felt a desperate need to comfort George; to tell him he was wrong and that it was okay.

But it wasn't.

And he couldn't lie to him. He knew better than anyone that right now it was _not_ okay.

He placed a hesitant arm around George's shoulder, startled but pleasantly surprised when the skinny man leaned into him.

"Did you know? Could you feel it?" Harry asked. George tensed. He knew exactly what Harry was talking about.

"The second it happened."

Harry looked down at George, pulling him closer and squeezing his arm reassuringly.

"You can get through this George, I know you can."

George removed his face from his hands and his brown eyes gazed tearfully into Harry's green.

"You can too."

From then on, Harry and George were with each other as much as they possibly could. They talked about everything; about their guilt, their pain, just everything. They spent most of their time at the Burrow because George couldn't be alone for too long, and Harry had thought of the Burrow as his family home for a very long time, so it was without question for the Weasleys that he would live with them.

They helped each other recover and get better. Harry was the first one to make George smile again since the war, and George was the first one to make Harry laugh again since the war. Each began to rely on the other equally, finding strength and comfort in simply being there for each other.

They were alone in the Burrow's kitchen five months after the war ended. The October air was cold and biting, and the pair was seeking refuge in the homey atmosphere of the Weasley household.

They sat opposite each other at the wooden breakfast table, clutching mugs of hot tea. Molly could be heard in the living room, muttering to herself as she tidied, and the ever present sound of Ron and Hermione's bickering could be heard from upstairs. Even though they were a couple now, that most certainly didn't mean they would get on. Yes, they were in love, but no they could never actually get on.

But Harry had had enough of idle chatter, so he brought up the question that they had all been comprehending for months.

"Why don't you start up the joke shop again?"

George's previously content expression turned grim.

"Without him? I couldn't,"

"He'd have wanted you to carry on,"

"Would he," Harry wasn't sure if that was a question. They sat in silence. "Besides, I couldn't do it alone even if I wanted to."

Harry pondered for a moment, his expression screwed up in thought. A few moments later, and idea had clearly formed in his head as he had a vaguely triumphant look on his face.

"What about Ron?"

"Ron?"

"Ron."

George thought for a few moments as he considered the idea. He took a sip of his tea and traced the wood pattern on the table with his forefinger.

"Would he want to?"

"I'm positive. He told me the other day he's not really up for becoming an Auror. Not yet anyway." George thought some more, his expression apprehensive. "Look, it's not going to be easy starting up again without Fred," George's eyes flicked up to Harry, "and I'm not suggesting you replace him with Ron. Okay it won't be the same with Ron, but you need to carry on the famous Weasley twins' legacy!" Harry declared, encouraging a small laugh from the redhead which made him feel quite warm inside.

George took a deep breath, and set his hands down firmly on the table.

"Alright. I'm going to start up the shop again, and ask Ron if he'll do it with me,"

"Great!"

"But I want you to apply to be an Auror," George smirked at him.

"George-"

"Harry, you need to find something to do," George cut in, "something that you can really get your teeth into. You spent a very long time constantly on edge, in danger with the possibility of no future …" George trailed off a strange, absent look on his face. As if the moment had never happened, he continued, "being an Auror, you can help protect people; put away the remaining Death Eaters, do what you're bloody _good _at."

Harry had to admit that George had a very good point. Even though Harry was relieved it was all over, he felt empty, and maybe, being an Auror could help that. He moved his gaze from the table to George's imploring eyes.

"Okay."

George's face lit up, something which made Harry even surer that his decision was the right one.


	2. Chapter 2

"George?" Harry pushed open the door of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and looked around the cluttered shop, which had not quite yet reopened for business.

At first glance there was no sign of George who he'd agreed to meet there. Harry heard a muffled 'here' and the lanky redhead stood up from behind the counter, his arms overflowing with Skiving Snackboxes. The man grinned at him and winked, causing Harry's stomach to flutter.

"How's setting up going?" he continued.

"Fine, Ron's just out buying more materials so we can start making new merchandise,"

Harry was unbelievably happy to see the delight back in George's eyes. The excitement at being back in his element was evident, and his cheeky glint was once again present. It was like an old friend who had moved away was finally back.

As he carried the Snackboxes over to the shelves, Harry walked to the counter and pulled himself up next to the cash register. George turned around, his eyebrows raised.

"And have you applied to Auror training yet, my wonderful four-eyed friend?"

Harry grinned, he would have retorted but the 'wonderful' made him feel too happy to care about the reference to his glasses. It was enough that George was joking again, his old self was slowly resurfacing.

George returned his grin, but clearly was still waiting for an answer. Harry exhaled, his head down, but his eyes flicked up to George cheekily.

"Yes I have,"

"Brilliant!" George exclaimed, abandoning the Snackboxes as he went to slap Harry on the back.

"Well done! When do you start?"

"Two weeks,"

"Great!" George turned back to lay out the products in perfectly stacked pyramids with a lazy flick of his wand. Harry took a moment to admire how talented a wizard George actually was before speaking up again.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything Hazza!" he teased. Harry winced.

"Please never, ever call me that again," George sighed in mock exasperation.

"_Fine!" _he said, drawing out the 'I'. "Seriously though, anything, what's up?"

Harry played with his fingers, mulling over what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. George wasn't sure whether to be worried or not.

"Well, now I'm sorting my life out, now that I have one," he added, (George practically growled), "I'm starting my training soon, and I've decided I'm going to be the best Godfather I can to Teddy."

George nodded gently, encouraging him to continue, walking back over to Harry so he could pull himself up on the counter to sit next to him. "Like him, my parents died at such a young age, and I grew up without a father figure, or anyone who particularly cared about me at all," he said with a small laugh, but George wasn't laughing. He wanted to find the Durselys and hex them into oblivion right then. "I will not let Teddy grow up like that, I will not let him miss out; and of course Andromeda is gonna be great to him, but he needs a father figure."

"And you're going to be an amazing father figure for him!"

Harry sighed.

"That's the thing though, I'm terrified I'm going to be awful at it,"

George looked outraged.

"Harry, you most certainly are not! Okay, you may mess him up a little bit, what with your tragic past and all …" George joked as he jabbed him playfully in the ribs, obviously imitating the nightmare reporter Rita Skeeter.

Harry laughed but George realised that he may have taken the joke more literally than he intended. "Harry please don't think that, why would Remus and Tonks have made you Godfather if they thought you'd be crap at it?" After a few moments Harry nodded. George gave a sigh of relief, before asking, "did you want to ask me something to do with this?" Harry nodded again.

"Yeah, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I'm spending the day with Teddy and Andromeda next Saturday, and I was wondering if well … you would come with me?"

George was surprised, but soon got over himself and smiled.

"Of course,"

Harry sat on the edge of the sofa awkwardly, running a hand through his hair as he gazed down at the baby lying on the floor below him. Teddy's hair was royal blue and curly and his eyes a rich gold. He flapped his chubby arms and legs around squealing in delight as his Grandmother blew noisy raspberries on his stomach.

George chuckled at the scene. It was good to see real happiness again. Andromeda had lost so much in such a short space of time so to see her looking at something so lovingly was special, and gave George hope.

George sat next to Harry, lounging back on the large couch with his arm draped across the back and his long legs crossed.

Andromeda looked up at Harry.

"Would you like to hold him?"

Harry looked panicked as Andromeda held out the giggling baby to him, and he visibly shied away.

Knowing how scared he was at messing this up, George placed a hand on the other boy's shoulder. Harry quickly looked at George who just smiled at him. That was all he needed.

Taking a deep breath, he extended his arms to take Teddy off Andromeda and cradled him in his arms, as if he'd been holding babies all his life. Visibly calmer, a beautiful smile graced Harry's face as the baby clutched his forefinger in his tiny fist.

George felt an overwhelming surge of pride as he watched the scene, and laughed as the metamorphagus' hair turned into a messy jet black mop, and his eyes turned emerald green.

Smiling even wider, Harry turned to George.

"Would _you _like to hold him?"

George was suddenly very worried. He hadn't held a baby since Ginny was tiny, and even then that wasn't very often because his Mother was so sure, being the trickster he was, that he would turn her into something resembling a koala bear.

"I – I don't know,"

"Go on, it's easy,"

Before he could argue, Harry had placed the baby gently but firmly into his arms so that George now had a rather excitable six month old baby in his arms. Trying not to drop him or make him uncomfortable, George shifted Teddy in his arms to get a better hold. It was fine. He could do this; it was just a baby after all.

Looking up at George with wide eyes, Teddy laughed once again and his hair turned from black to fiery red and short, and his pupils to a soft hazel.

In that moment, George thought of Fred.

Is this what Fred's child would have looked like if he'd lived to have a family?

Tears threatened to fall as George pulled the baby closer to his body. Teddy seemed to notice his sadness and gazed almost worryingly and curiously up at him.

Harry didn't notice. He was too busy looking at Teddy's eyes.

George's eyes.

He'd never noticed how beautiful they actually were.


	3. Chapter 3

When George wasn't with Harry, when he was off at training or had something to do, it was like he was back to how he was when Fred first died. Withdrawn, sad, quiet; and one day, Ginny had had enough.

Harry was lounging on the living room sofa, dozing after a tiring day of training. His mind's careless wanderings were interrupted by familiar yells radiating from the kitchen.

Confused, he pulled himself up and leaned through the kitchen doorway. He saw the entire Weasley family and Hermione crowded around the edges of the room with Ginny, clearly fuming, leaning threateningly towards a shell shocked George, both in the centre of what was reminiscent of a boxing ring.

Harry hurried to stand behind George's shoulder.

"What's going on?" He asked, but Ginny ignored him.

"For God's sake George, we want to help you, but you spend all your time with Harry!" she bellowed, as if Harry hadn't even entered. "We're your Goddamn family and we're trying to get you through this, but we barely see you!" Molly looked furiously at Ginny, but made no move to stop her; Arthur stood beside her, his expression blank. Ginny continued her tirade, her face purple, "And when we do see you, unless Harry's around you're miserable! You don't speak or anything! Don't forget George, we all lost Fred too!"

Harry frowned. He hadn't noticed that George had been like that. George's expression showed the tiniest hint of pain.

"Do you all think this?" he said almost inaudibly. Ron squirmed next to Hermione and Charlie shuffled his feet, staring at the floor. Bill had his hands shoved in his pockets, and seemed to find the wall behind George rather interesting. Fleur just stood next to a flustered Percy, her arms folded.

George remained calm, and looked back at his sister who was shaking with rage, now glaring at Harry. "I'm sorry, okay?" Ginny looked back to him. "When Fred died, I lost half of myself, honestly it feels like more. I just – I can't bare the pain. Being around you all just reminds me of him, and Harry, well, for some reason he makes me feel whole again. His mere presence stops me from just … ending it all now."

His voice cracked at the last sentence, one tear finally escaping. The room was silent.

Harry stared wide eyed at George in shock.

George quietly turned around, and walked out of the tense room into the garden. "Harry, come on," he said calmly as he left.

'I'm coming, George,' he made to go after him but Ginny grabbed his upper arm tightly, yanking him back. He turned back to look at the fury on her face.

"_Why does he need you!_"

Harry knew she desperately wanted to help her brother and felt useless, but at that moment in time he could find no pity or patience to give her.

George needed him now.

"I don't know, okay! He just does!" After tearing his arm from her clutches, he ran from the Burrow.

{-}

Harry walked slowly towards George's huddled figure; his head was buried in his legs that were pulled to his chest. Quietly he sat next to him by the riverside, George's words running through his mind. Did he really mean what he'd said?

Of course he did. This was George; he was completely and utterly honest.

"Harry, don't leave me. Please?" George wrapped his arms around Harry's chest under the boy's arms, burying the side of his face into his shirt. It killed Harry to see George so obviously stuck and heartbroken and lost. He looked so small, like a hurt child.

He pulled George's wiry frame closer to his firm body, resting his head on his. George wasn't crying but his eyes were tight shut, clutching the boy he'd come to rely on so much.

"I'm not going anywhere George," Harry breathed, closing his eyes as well.

But then George's words to his family echoed in his mind. There was something that needed to be addressed.

He abruptly untangled them, grasping the redhead's shoulders violently and turned his body to face him. "George listen to me," he implored, "you cannot, _cannot_ kill yourself," his voice caught in his throat. "George, promise me- George look at me," he shook him, and George's dead eyes met his, causing Harry's heart to break clean in two. "Promise me, _promise _me, that you will not kill yourself!"

And then Harry let out a sob, pushing his forehead into George's chest, all the pain, loss and guilt from the war finally flooding to the surface. He'd suffered enough already, with George gone as well, life wouldn't be worth living.

George pulled Harry into a fiercely tight and protective embrace, tears cascading through his squinted eyes as Harry cried into his shoulder.

"I promise," he whispered.

They kneeled in the damp grass, weeping in each other's arms well past nightfall; both not wanting to leave the comfort they found in the other.

{-}

"Go up, I'll be there in a minute,"

George looked extremely reluctant to let go of Harry's hand, but after a minute of Harry's deep, promising gaze, he gave a small nod. Letting go, he headed up the stairs.

"George needs me tonight," Harry said to Molly and Ron, the only two people remaining in the kitchen, without looking at them. He strode purposefully towards the corner to search for his pyjamas in the laundry pile.

Harry guessed everyone else had gone to bed and that the two had waited for them to return. He took Hermione's absence to mean she was comforting Ginny. They both nodded and Molly left quietly.

As Harry was bent over the pile of clothes, he felt a large, gentle hand on his shoulder; he twisted around to see Ron looking down at him, his eyes meaningful.

'I understand,' he said.

And Harry knew that he did. His best friend knew, and was supporting him. "Thanks for being there for him, Harry, and for me. I'll talk to the others," Harry knew he meant Ginny in particular. "They'll come around," Harry nodded at him, no words were needed.

He gave a weak smile which Ron returned. The redhead took his hand away, and followed his mum into the living room.

But Harry suddenly felt overwhelmingly guilty.

"Ron, wait," he called after him.

He turned around in the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"I haven't been there for you though,"

Ron looked puzzled.

"What?"

"I've been a lousy best friend. I've been with George all the time. I should have been helping you," Harry couldn't believe he was only just realising this. He was so upset with himself.

Ron shook his head profusely.

"Harry-"

"No Ron, Ginny was right. You lost Fred too. I should have been there to help you through it," Ron sighed and his head dropped downwards.

"Harry, you being there for George is more than enough for me. I would be in a much worse state now," Ron looked up and took a few steps towards Harry, "if George was suffering badly. Which he is, but with you he's better; _So much better._ Just seeing George happy around you is helping me."

Harry bit his lip, still unconvinced but feeling better all the same. Ron cracked a wide smile. "Besides, I've had Hermione," Harry laughed lightly, unsure whether Ron had realised the double meaning in that sentence.

"Yes you have,"

Ron winked, uncannily like the twins, before turning and exiting the kitchen.

Finally finding his pyjamas and a blanket, Harry got up and took the stairs two at a time.

He knocked George's bedroom door lightly, and after a quiet "come in", twisted the knob and entered.

George was already in his pyjamas and was lying on his side on top of the covers, both of his hand cushioning the side of his face, like small children do when they're miming sleep. He looked so small.

Harry quickly changed into his pyjamas and headed towards him. George hadn't moved an inch.

He began to lay out the blanket on the hard, wooden floor between the two beds. He knew he couldn't intrude on Fred's old bed, and he didn't want to.

But as he was on his knees setting up his makeshift mattress, long, cold fingers wrapped around his wrist. He looked up at George, puzzled, who for a moment just stared at him.

Then, after what felt like forever, still clutching Harry's wrist, he shifted his body backwards so that the half of the single bed closest to Harry was free.

Harry's heart pounded against his ribcage at George's clear indication. But he wasn't complaining.

He allowed George to pull him towards the bed, and lay down in the space he'd made for him. He set his limbs so that he was facing George, mirroring his body.

Once again George stared at him, studying the boy's emerald irises and the deep, black depths of the pupils, as if searching for something. Harry was entranced with George's hazel orbs, which Teddy had mimicked so well, unable to tear his eyes away from the millions of messages and emotions that were captured in them.

George pulled Harry's wrist that he was still holding over the side of his thin body and let go. He pushed one arm under the other boy's body and the other arm over. He pulled him firmly towards him, like he was claiming Harry as his and no one else's.

He curled his figure to tuck himself into Harry's smaller shape. The two lay wrapped up together, breathing deeply, hearts racing.

Harry had thought that after the war he had felt empty; but now he realised that he hadn't felt like that for a while. And it wasn't because of the Auror training.

It was because of the man in his arms.

The man who had come to mean so much to him, to help him through so much.

He realised that he needed George as much as he needed air, and he was fairly sure it was the same for the other man as well.

The last thing they knew before they fell asleep was the musky, wonderful scents of each other as their breathing deepened, their faces nestled in each other's warm shoulders.


	4. Chapter 4

George blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight streaming into the room. He became aware of a warm body holding him, and a mop of unruly black hair that tickled his nose. He smiled at the sleeping boy's head before the events of the night before came crashing down on him.

His family was angry with him. Well Ginny was anyway. He sighed, and pulled Harry closer and once again closed his eyes.

But it wasn't too long before he could hear distant shouting coming from downstairs. The voices grew louder and louder but George couldn't make out what they were saying. All he knew was that it wasn't good.

Harry shifted as he stirred from sleep, the argument clearly having woken him. The sleepy boy pulled his head away and looked up at George, his tousled hair even more wild than usual.

"Hey," he murmered.

"Hey," George copied with a smile.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, clearly concerned.

"Better now you're here," he smiled again.

Harry smiled too, but he frowned as he became aware of the yelling below.

"What's going on?"

George groaned and tipped his head down to Harry's, resting their foreheads together.

"I don't know, but I'd bet my entire Gringotts account that it's about me,"

"And me probably," Harry added. After a few moments, Harry untangled their limbs and pulled George off the bed by his arms towards the door. "Come on, let's sort this out."

Once they reached the top of the staircase, George placed a hand on Harry's chest to stop him. Ginny's raised voice was apparent, and she was clearly still very angry.

"… I just don't see why he can't talk to us! Why does he need to be around Harry all the bloody time?"

"Look Gin!" George looked surprised to hear Ron's voice, "Harry and George understand each other okay? And they need each other right now, so you need to respect that!" Ron had clearly lost all patience with his sister, as he was bellowing with all his might.

"But how does Harry understand! Fred was our brother too, not Harry's! _He's_ not our brother!"

"He's as good as!" Bill now joined in the argument. Harry felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the two Weasley brothers, and flattered to be considered one of the family. He saw George grinning at him and blushed.

"Ginny," Hermione said softly before Ginny interrupted her.

"Hermione, you stay the Hell out of this!"

"Don't you _dare _talk to her like that! She's trying to help!" Harry didn't need to see Ron to know that his face was red right now.

"I don't c-"

"Ginny, I know you're jealous of George because he has Harry's attention, and don't even bother trying to deny it because it's _painfully_ obvious! But you're being bloody selfish right now and George needs Harry more than you do so _bloody well get used to it!_"

There was a stony silence. George and Harry looked at each other.

Then, George took Harry's hand in a strong, reassuring grip, nodded, and led him downstairs into the kitchen.

Ron and Ginny were still staring each other down, and Ron's face which was red with anger turned to red with embarrassment as they entered. It was then that Harry realised that George was still holding his hand. And he found he didn't care one bit.

"Thanks Ron, Bill, Hermione," George smiled weakly at them before shooting a frosty glare at his sister which she returned and took Harry into the living room, leaving the others rather shell shocked.

"George, what are you doing?" Referring to him still holding his hand.

"Making a point," George grinned, "Let's go for a walk." Harry blinked.

"We're in our pyjamas,"

"So?" he winked, and continued to pull Harry into the garden.

The grass was wet with morning dew, soaking their bare feet as they crossed the garden still hand in hand.

George closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He breathed in deeply, savouring the refreshing feeling of cold November air filling his lungs.

Harry watched the pure freedom in his face and had never been more happy or relieved to see the man so carefree.

As they strolled out of the garden and over the hills their hands remained together. It struck Harry as slightly odd how both of them were completely okay and relaxed with things like sleeping in each other's arms and never untangling their fingers.

He loved how something as simple as feeling George's warm palm against his, the slightly rough fingers calloused from so many experiments entwined with his, could make him feel so … right.

"No! Not them! PLEASE NOT THEM! NO!" Harry was thrashing around, his arms flailing as George desperately tried to wake him up.

"Harry! Harry, you're dreaming! Wake up, please wake up!" With one final shake, Harry jerked awake. After a moment of shock, he took in his surroundings and burst into tears.

George took him into his arms once again, and pulled his back close against his chest as he sat up against the headboard, holding onto him tightly.

"Shhh, you're alright. It was just a nightmare," he soothed, gently stroking Harry's unruly hair. As Harry calmed down, he continued the rhythmic movement relaxing him furthermore. "How long have you had these nightmares for?"

Harry swallowed.

"Ever since the war," he picked at the bed sheet, "luckily they're not every night," Harry's voice was hoarse, and George pulled him tighter to him. "This one wasn't as bad as usual," he continued, his voice softer, "I think it's because I'm with you,"

George felt a rush of warmth and gave a very small smile.

"Well you're just going to have to stay here with me then every night,"

Harry turned his head to look up at him. He was clutching his hand with George's arms wrapped around him protectively, leaning against his firm chest. His face was angled up to George's.

He searched for his familiar features in the darkness with his exhausted eyes, his heart racing. He felt a heat that sent a tingling through his joints, and a flutter in his stomach as George's eyes bore into his. They had a beautiful intensity and passion, with a hint of longing and sadness.

And then George began to lean down, closing the small gap between them quickly. Their eyes closed as their lips finally met, clashing awkwardly and desperately. It was needy and hungry and far from perfect.

Which made it perfect.

Harry bunched George's shirt in his hand as a small moan of ecstasy and pure bliss escaped from George's throat. Harry's hands travelled to the back of his head, almost violently pulling him even closer to roughly deepen the kiss that he was putting everything he wanted to say into.

Urgent, broken gasps mingled with the clashes, George pouring in all his thoughts with heated breath.

I'm here for you, you're safe with me; I care about you, I won't leave you. I need you.

They broke apart, their deep breaths deafening in the previously silent darkness. Their eyes were still closed and they knocked their foreheads together affectionately.

George ghosted his lips over Harry's once again, causing the raven haired boy to whimper as more sparks shot through both of their bodies. They hadn't felt this happy in a very long time.

But they both knew there'd be Hell to pay when Ginny found out.

The dinner table the next day wasn't as awkward as expected, Ginny alone remained silent, not looking at anyone. Clearly, her brothers had put her in her place.

There was cheerful chatter mingling with the clatters of knives and forks as the residents of the Burrow tucked into the even more humungous feast than normal that Molly had cooked.

Harry was fairly certain she was trying to make up for not defending the two of them. It seemed like the others were too as they were seemingly trying to convince the two of them that they weren't angry with them by being as loud and chatty as possible.

Once dessert was finished, Harry felt George nudge him in the ribs lightly. He looked up at him questioningly, but he just winked at him. He realised then what George was about to do. Before he could stop him, George coughed loudly and stood up to make himself known.

They all fell silent and looked up at him, waiting for what he wanted to say. Ginny however, remained staring defiantly down at her Jam Roly-Poly.

"So yeah, Harry and I are together," he said it so casually.

Charlie choked on his coffee, Harry stared wide-eyed at him; Molly looked slightly shell shocked, Ron and Percy were blushing and Ginny was glaring murderously. However, Bill, Hermione, Fleur and Arthur were smiling. George just stood there grinning.

"So if any of you have a problem with that, I'd appreciate it if you kept it to yourselves because we're certain that we're going to be happy together. And if you can't be happy for us, well … sod you," clapping his hands together and with one final winning smile, he sat back down, indicating the end of the conversation.

Harry tutted quietly. Typical George.

The table was in silence. But soon enough, Ginny shot up, looking as if she wanted to say an awful lot. But after glancing at each of her family's faces, all of which clearly showed that they were firmly on Harry and George's side, she decided against it. Her face puce, she stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Harry looked over to Ron and Hermione, both of who were smiling warmly at him. Bill, Charlie and Arthur had gone back to their dessert all smirking into their mouthfuls. Fleur was positively beaming at the two of them and Percy was still blushing.

But scaring Harry out of his mind, and by the look on George's face, him as well, Molly was just staring at them blankly.

Suddenly, she stood up and began to walk out of the kitchen. George turned deathly pale.

"Mum? Where are you going?"

Molly stopped, and turned around.

"To set up a separate bed for Harry. Can't have you sleeping in the same bed now can we?"

Ron snorted, and Bill and Charlie fell about laughing. Percy looked like he might faint. Harry had never been more stunned in his life than when Molly gave him the sneakiest smirk he'd ever seen.

Now he knew where Fred and George got it from.

arrHarr76


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Hi everyone! Not a lot happens in this chapter but don't worry, there's a lot more to come! I'm hoping that it'll get quite exciting, so it'd be great if you stuck with it. Thank for all of your reviews, they really are much appreciated! **

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><p>Ginny wasn't taking it well. Ron and Arthur just told Harry and George to leave her be, but Molly and Bill desperately tried to get through to her. But she refused to talk about it to anyone and just stayed quiet and sullen.<p>

"She eez being a seelly girl! Surely she should be 'appy for you!" Fleur complained loudly from the kitchen table. Harry winced at her tactlessness, positive that Ginny could hear every word she was saying, while George was just amused by the whole situation.

"She eez acting like a leetle child! I am amazed zat Molly eez letting 'er get avay wiz zis!"

"Sweetheart, please," Bill put his head in his hands, "Mum's doing what she can, okay?"

"Yes, but eet eez not enough!" Fleur banged the table with her fist, (Harry thought it was safe to say that Fleur was supportive of their relationship) "I think I might talk to 'er," as Fleur arose, Harry and George shot up from their seats.

"No!" they yelled in unison. 'Phlegm' trying to get Ginny to see sense was the worst idea they'd ever heard.

Fleur looked shocked and quirked an eyebrow at them. She sighed exasperatedly.

"Fine, fine!"

Harry and George sat back down relieved, but little did they know, that someone else would be the one to berate the youngest Weasley.

{-}

Arthur, Harry and Bill had been having a lie in one Saturday morning after a particularly busy week at work, and they all appeared simultaneously in the kitchen, bleary eyed and grumpy.

"Why? _Why_ is there so much bloody shouting in this house?" Bill groaned wiping sleep from his eye.

"Well there are twelve of us here, and one is an extremely jealous red-headed witch, with said object of jealousy going out with her brother. Not a good mixture," said Ron, earning a death glare from Harry, and caused George to look fiercely protective.

The three men had been awoken by shouts that were now regularity at the Burrow, but one voice was different.

George pulled Harry down to sit next to him, who leant his head on his shoulder lazily.

"Who is it now?" Harry asked, he couldn't be bothered to see who wasn't present and therefore in the argument.

"Hermione," George said with a hint of disbelief. Harry looked surprised. Hermione had been the one trying to keep things peaceful, and now _she_ was the one causing the verbal battles.

"Really?"

"Yup, looks like she's had enough. It started off quiet enough but I have a feeling Gin said something that really made her angry and well…" he gestured upwards. They all looked at the ceiling as the raised, high-pitched voices had suddenly ceased.

They all fell silent.

"Maybe one of them killed the other one?" Charlie said almost hopefully.

"Hush you!" Molly scolded, but she suddenly looked rather worried.

They all waited and quietly ate their breakfast with bated breath, before finally, they heard heavy footsteps.

Hermione appeared at the foot of the stairs, her face was flushed and she looked like she'd just run through a gale.

"Oh my God, she's murdered her," Charlie gasped, earning a sharp jab in the ribs from Ron.

Hermione seemed not to have heard, and took her seat at the table next to Ron trying to look dignified. None of them dared speak.

"Pass the marmalade would you, George?"

And then everyone went about as normal. But Ginny didn't come down for breakfast.

{-}

"I wish he could have known about us,"

George was lying on his front, tracing a pattern on Harry's chest, who was lying on his back in the freshly cut grass. They were seeking refuge in the shade of a small tree, as the heat was stifling. The Sun was beating down, and the little shadow they head didn't do much to keep them cool.

"Would he have minded?" Harry asked without sitting up.

"Are you kidding? He would have been more protective of us than Hermione and Ron put together!" he said laughing. Harry smirked as he turned his head to look at him.

"Yeah, I guess,"

Suddenly, George became more serious. He stared at his moving finger, frowning at it. Harry became worried; but he'd learnt now that when George was like this, the best thing to do was just wait until he was ready to talk.

George paused in his pattern.

"He would have been able to bring Ginny round no problem," he said softly, "At the end of the day she would always listen to him, and me I guess. But not anymore," he continued the circular smoothing.

Harry stayed flat on his back watching George, but stilled his restless hand with his, interlocking his slighter fingers with George's longer ones. George just started at their hands blankly.

"It's really bothering you, isn't it?" Harry asked quietly.

George nodded, but his eyes never left their hands.

"She's my sister. I don't want to hurt her, but I want to be happy, and I want her to be happy for me,"

Harry squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Of course you do, I feel the same way. I care about Ginny a lot; I love her like a sister and she's one of my closest friends, and the last thing I want to do is make her like this,"

George's eyes finally flickered to Harry, his gaze meaningful. He sighed.

"I guess she just needs time,"

"Exactly," but Harry was really struggling as he saw the pain in George's eyes. Even though it was less and less present, it still made the odd appearance. He decided to use the one way which he knew was foolproof in making George feel better.

"Come here," Harry commanded.

And to Harry's great relief, the corner of his mouth twitched, and he shifted his body so that he was over him. Harry raised his free hand, and brushed strands of George's red hair behind his one ear. He rubbed one coarse piece between his finger and thumb, memorising the texture.

The last thing Harry noticed before all coherent thought disappeared was that George's eyes were once again sparkling.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Hello, a longer chapter than normal here! I really hope you like it, and like I said, there's more to come! Thanks for all support and reviews x**

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><p>Once again, Harry was nervous, and once again, George was not.<p>

George had decided that they needed to inform their closest friends of their relationship, which meant that Luna, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Lee and Angelina were coming for lunch.

Lee arrived first, shortly followed by Dean and Seamus. They greeted each other warmly as it had been a long time since they'd seen each other properly.

Angelina came next and practically attacked George as she engulfed him in a hug. Harry felt a surge of possessiveness, but once she platonically placed her hand on his cheek and walked away wiping her teary eyes, he knew she was just worried about him, and thinking of Fred.

Then the two people he'd been looking forward to seeing most arrived. Neville apparated into the garden; taller, slimmer, with a new confidence that wasn't arrogant or precocious. He simply held his head a little higher, and smiled a little easier. Harry hugged the war hero tightly, happy to see him again. He just hoped that he would still want to be friends with him once he revealed his secret.

He wasn't worried about Luna in the slightest. She turned up last and floated into sight singing the praises of the earlier de-gnomed gnomes that had sidetracked her. She was the most open and understanding person he knew, so he knew she'd be fine with it. He'd missed her a ridiculous amount.

The visitors, the trio, George and Ginny were all eating at the magically lengthened table in the garden. They were catching up with what they'd missed, finding out how everyone and their families were adjusting.

No one talked about those they lost. Now was not a time for death.

Harry began to sweat lightly as he felt the moment the conversation had been building up to fast approaching. George's hidden hand on his knee only relaxing him slightly.

After they finished laughing at one of Seamus' retellings of his many antics that led to singed eyebrows, Harry decided to get it over with.

He cleared his throat. The table fell silent and his friends all smiled at him. George squeezed his knee encouragingly.

"Um, well, I – _we_," he looked at George, "have a bit of news,"

"Yeah?" Dean asked,

"Yeah, well. We're, um … me and George that is, we are," he coughed, "we're together."

He stared at his lap, unable to bare any rejection he might receive from any of them.

George took Harry's hand and looked at each of their friends. Dean and Seamus were staring, wide-eyed. Neville looked rather pleasantly surprised, and Luna looked overjoyed. He frowned a little as he spotted Lee and Angelina leaning back in their seats, arms folded and smirking.

"What?" he asked them, perplexed.

"I knew it! I _knew _you were gay! I always had this feeling-," Angelina said grinning, before George interrupted.

"Okay, moving on-,"

"Yeah, this doesn't surprise me," Lee said plainly. George glared at him. He glanced at Harry who was staring worriedly at Dean and Seamus, both who hadn't even blinked.

"Congratulations, you two," Neville said beaming.

"Thanks, mate," George smiled back. Luna looked like she might explode at any moment. The smile on her face was so wide it must have been causing her pain.

"This is really wonderful!" she seemed to glow, "I'm so happy for you!" George grinned, but was growing equally as concerned as Harry. Dean and Seamus still had not said a word.

Seamus finally seemed to remember how to speak,

"But …" he looked at Ginny. Harry squirmed next to him. Brilliant, George thought. Seamus suddenly realised how uncomfortable he'd made the situation, and shook himself. "Well this is out of the blue isn't it?" he chuckled awkwardly.

"Not really for us," said Ron, "I've seen it coming for a while now," he seemed almost proud of himself.

Git.

"Well, this is great guys," Dean finally said, giving a small smile.

"Yeah," Seamus agreed, "it is,"

Harry exhaled with relief.

"So have you always been gay or is it just recently?"

Trust Seamus.

* * *

><p>"Go on Teddy! Go to Uncle Ron!" Hermione was holding Teddy's hands above his head as he took one tentative step after another. His face was screwed up adorably in concentration.<p>

Harry's pride was dramatically increasing with each step the little boy took. George squeezed his hand from where he sat lounging back next to him. He looked just as proud as he was.

Their fingers had been interlocked the entire day, as they hardly had a full day together anymore.

Harry was thankful for his rare time off; now that he was a new Auror, he got the worst, and most shifts. It was tiring but rewarding, and he wouldn't rather be doing anything else. But he did appreciate his days off more than the average person.

As Teddy finally fell into Ron's arms, he scooped him up and began to tickle him mercilessly. The little boy squealed with joy.

Ron was an absolute natural with Teddy which was the last thing any of them expected. Particularly Hermione, who was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that Ron was better than her at something that wasn't Quidditch.

Ron took over Hermione's job and after plonking Teddy on his feet, he took his hands and began to lead him.

"Now Uncle Georgie!" he sing-songed. George chuckled at how his brother always turned to mush around the child, but finally let go of Harry's hand and prepared himself.

Crossing his legs, he held his arms out for him. Teddy was now sporting brown, short, wavy hair (a mixture of Ron and Hermione's) and amber eyes that really were quite beautiful.

"Come on," George cooed, and inwardly blushed at his sappiness.

And then Ron let go of Teddy's hands and he stood all on his own. George's eyes widened and he beckoned him forward. "Good boy! Come on Teddy!"

He took one shaky step, and then another. He wobbled dangerously and Ron dived forward, but he regained his balance.

"Keep going Teddy!" Harry said excitedly. George smiled and continued to encourage him forwards. The toddler's eyes never left George's.

And after two more unsteady steps, he practically jumped into George's long arms. The man swooped him up into the air as they all cheered and clapped. He lay down on his back and held him up at arm's length flying him through the air, making zooming broomstick noises as Teddy giggled and whooped.

George sat up again smiling boyishly, squinting his eyes his eyes slightly in the bright sunlight. He mussed up his now tousled hair and kissed Teddy on the nose.

"I love you."

George turned sharply to see a shocked Harry, who had clearly realised what he'd just said in the spur of the moment. He looked like a rabbit caught in headlights.

Both of their eyes flickered to Ron and Hermione who appeared not to have noticed, and were in fact having a bit of an intimate moment themselves.

They looked back at each other. Harry was terrified.

And then, George's heart began to pound like a battle drum as the realisation hit him. Harry had no reason to be scared.

"I love you too," he whispered.

The most incredible smile George had ever seen lit up Harry's face. He couldn't help but grin like an idiot himself.

George suddenly remembered that Teddy was still in his arms when he began to squirm uncomfortably. He jumped and loosened his grip, holding him closer to his body.

"Sorry buddy,"

Harry was now looking back at Ron and Hermione who had seemingly forgotten they weren't alone, and were kissing passionately.

"This child has quite an effect on people," George said, also watching them with a raised eyebrow. Harry smiled and chuckled.

"He certainly does."

* * *

><p>George had just pulled on his pyjama top on when there was a light knock on the door. Expecting Harry, he smirked, his tone playful as he opened the door.<p>

"Can't keep your hands off me can you – oh," George cut off abruptly as he opened the door to reveal not Harry, but Ginny. They both blushed profusely, unable to look each other in the eye.

"Uh … hi," she said, fiddling with her fingers.

"Hi," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Can I come in?" she asked hopefully.

He quickly regained his senses.

"Yeah, sure," he opened the door wider and stepped aside to allow her in. She shuffled through the doorway and he closed it behind her.

He noticed her stop suddenly and he wondered what was wrong. And then he realised; Fred's empty bed. He still struggled to look at it now, and considering it was the first time she'd seen it since, it was bound to be a bit of a shock to the system.

He took her and squeezed it, trying to comfort her and make her understand that he felt like that too. She looked up at him and gave a sad smile. He returned it.

She took a deep breath, and turned around to face him properly.

"I'm sorry,"

George's eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

"You are?"

Ginny nodded.

"I've been a bloody nightmare,"

He shrugged.

"Yes, you have," he wasn't going to argue with her there. She didn't seem to mind and began to ramble.

"I should have supported the two of you, not thrown hissy fits and sulked like a child. It's pathetic. I've never been more embarrassed in my life!"

"Gin-,"

"No, let me finish. I want to know that I am happy for the two of you. I can get over Harry fine, I have to. We're probably far better off as friends anyway. I've been the stupidest person ever and I'm just so, so sorry," she gasped, finally able to breathe. She looked up at him, waiting for him to start yelling.

But all George could do was hug his little sister. She tensed at first, but as soon as she realised that he didn't want to cause her bodily harm, she relaxed into the embrace, hugging him back.

"Thank you," he whispered. He felt so many emotions in that moment. Happy, relieved, grateful, elated.

He was curious to know how Hermione succeeded where everyone else had failed. Then again, it was Hermione.

* * *

><p>When George saw Harry in the garden the next day, and found out that Ginny had apologised to him as well, he pulled him towards him and kissed him deeply, his hands caressing his hair, arms and back.<p>

He was just so happy.

When they pulled apart, Harry couldn't stop smiling as he ran his fingers through George's hair, one of his favourite features of his boyfriend's.

"So everything's alright now?" he asked softly. George chuckled.

"Everything's alright."

But it wasn't going to be.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Hi everyone, sorry if I'm taking to long to update, I'll try and go faster! Please keep reviewing, because it's so helpful when you do. Please don't hate me for this chapter.**

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><p>Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was closed for lunch.<p>

George was tidying stacks of Extendable Ear boxes behind the counter with smooth waves of his wand, when a serious, middle-aged wizard walked into the shop, ignoring the 'closed' sign. He wore dark, clean-cut robes and he looked like he hadn't pulled a prank in his life, let alone stepped foot into a joke shop.

Normally, George would send him away until they opened, but he had a feeling this man wasn't here to purchase Canary Creams.

The man addressed George at the counter.

"Mr. Weasley please," he asked curtly.

"That's me," George said, folding his arms across his chest. The man studied him.

"No I don't think so, Ronald Weasley?"

"Yeah?" Ron said, appearing from the back room. Recognition crossed the man's face.

"Can we speak in private?" the man gestured to the door behind the counter.

"Whatever you have to tell me, you can say in front of George,"

The man frowned at him for a moment. Something told George that the fact he was a Weasley was the only reason the man continued.

"I'm Auror Miller, and I'm here to inform you that there has been an incident," George went completely cold. He was from the Auror department.

No, it couldn't be.

"Incident?" Ron asked, confused.

"What happened?" George croaked urgently. Miller acted as if Ron had asked the question, and continued to address him.

"Your friend Auror Potter was personally targeted, he is currently in St Mungo's and it is unknown if he will recover-,"

But George didn't wait to hear the rest. He sprinted from the shop, shortly followed by Ron.

"George, wait!" Ron managed to grab his brother's arm before George drew his wand, and apparated to the hospital.

Shaking off his brother's hand, he ran into the lobby, and strode purposefully towards the reception, breathing heavily like a furious Horntail. He had to see him.

"Where is he!" he yelled. The skinny receptionist jumped as he slammed his palms onto the counter. He saw her gaze flicker to his red hair; the Weasleys were now famous for being associated with Harry.

"Mr. Potter?" she squeaked.

"Yes, where is he!" he shouted louder, losing patience. Why was she taking so long? She didn't understand, he needed to see Harry!

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you-," the other male receptionist was interrupted when George leaned over the desk and grabbed him by his shirt. His beater muscles overpowering the man as he pulled him up to his face.

"WHERE IS HE!" he bellowed.

"George …"

He ignored his little brother.

"Ward 13!" the girl told him frantically. He flung the man aside, and walked brusquely towards the staircase, everyone giving him a wide berth and moving out of his way.

And then he began to run.

He sprinted up the staircase as he scanned the signs. The echoes of his pounding footsteps warned oncoming mediwitches and wizards to move aside as he flew past.

Finding the right floor, he smashed through the door, leaving it to bang against the wall as it swung open. He could hear Ron hot on his heels, but he wasn't slowing down for anyone.

All he could do was pray that Harry was okay.

His heart was racing and his stomach threatened to bring up his breakfast as it churned sickeningly.

He had to be alright, he had to.

_Ward Number 13._

Spotting the number, he pushed the door open and froze.

The sight he saw caused him to let out a dry sob. He gripped helplessly onto Ron who he felt shaking next to him.

Harry lay motionless in the hospital bed, deathly pale and weak.

He looked like Fred had looked.

He looked dead.

He was barely breathing; George could only just make out the shallow rise and fall of his chest. His World came tumbling down all over again, as he saw the man he loved slowly dying.

He stumbled towards the bed, and fell to his knees, clutching Harry's hand as he did. The boy's eyelids were an ill purple, his lips white and only a tiny hint of warmth radiating from Harry's palm gave any real sign of life.

"Ron, why is it always him?" he whispered.

"I don't know George, I don't know," Ron was crying.

"Mr. Weasley?" George finally looked away from Harry to see a rather frightened looking, small mediwitch in the doorway. She was staring at George strangely, eyeing their intertwined hands.

"What happened?" Ron choked. She looked away from George.

"I'm not at liberty to say, I know the basics which I can tell you, but I believe someone is on their way to explain in detail," she said.

"Is he going to be okay?" George asked hoarsely. He wasn't looking anymore, but was stroking Harry's hair. His eyes were so misty he could barely see his face. He hastily wiped the threatening tears away, and stared determinedly at Harry.

"It is unknown at this point. It appears that he was tortured first, and then subjected to a dark curse which I'm afraid we have no knowledge of. We have no idea what it could be that's made him like this," the more she spoke, the more George wanted to be sick. He buried his face in Harry's chest. The nurse stopped.

"Go on," George growled. He heard her gulp. Her tone grew much more solemn.

"I am going to be honest with you … it doesn't look good. We doubt that he will emerge from his comatose state. I'm very sorry,"

Ron made an odd strangled sound.

George's shoulders began to shake violently.

All he could think about was The Battle of Hogwarts; seeing Fred's body and then what he thought was Harry dead. He'd screamed Harry's name, willing it not to be true, because he couldn't lose him as well.

He was reliving it now.

_He couldn't lose him._

He felt Ron's comforting hand on his shoulder. He stood up and engulfed his brother, weeping into his shoulder.

"I can't lose him too, Ron, I can't,"

His younger brother pulled him closer.

"Neither can I, George, neither can I."

* * *

><p>George and Ron refused to leave Harry. George remained kneeling on the floor holding his hand. Ron tried to persuade him to sit in the chair, but he wanted to be as close to Harry as possible. Ron didn't argue.<p>

All the Weasleys including Fleur and Hermione turned up soon after. Hermione, Ginny and Molly had been inconsolable. The situation looked so completely hopeless, they had just lost all control.

Arthur, Percy stood stock still and silent; Fleur and Charlie were almost angry. Bill was one of the worst; he just stood there with a few tears sliding down his face.

They'd already suffered through so much grief, and now they were going to lose another one of their own.

But George had no eyes for his family. He would only look away from Harry once, surprisingly, the Minister for Magic entered the room.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had one of the most impressive presences George had ever known, but today, no one, no matter how calming, could reduce his fear.

"How are you all?"

No one answered him.

"What happened?" Arthur asked quietly. Kingsley sighed.

"A group of Aurors went to investigate a claim about possible dark activity in Cardiff. When they arrived, they all split off, and Harry alone was attacked," George winced, "No one found him for a little while, which allowed the curse to settle in, but once they did the person or persons was long gone," he explained grimly. "We believe it was a vengeful Death Eater who was one of the few that escaped the Final Battle, and wanted to finish off the Boy-Who-Lived because he fancied Voldemort's position."

"Have you found them?" Charlie seethed.

"No, not yet," he paused. He closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them again. This time, looking directly at George.

He looked so tired.

"And I am so sorry to tell you all this, but unless we find them, it doesn't seem as though there's much chance of Harry recovering,"

Molly whimpered. Feeling his eyes begin to water again, George continued to look right at Kingsley. He looked close to tears himself.

Was there no hope?

George felt a strange surge of something. Was it belief, or faith? Whatever it was, he was damned well going to follow through with it.

"He's going to make it," George said with certainty. Arthur looked at his son sympathetically.

"George, they don't even know what curse-,"

"No," he cut off his father, "Harry's different. He's not an ordinary wizard. He's going to wake up," he turned back to the bed.

"I know it."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Another chapter for you here, thanks for all the reviews, favourites, follows etc. Once again thanks for keeping with this, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)**

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><p>George was constantly at Harry's side, only ever leaving for the toilet, a quick shower in the ward bathroom or to change. He was thankful they had a private room because he could only muster the patience and energy tohold a conversation with his family and friends.<p>

His family brought food and clothes to him when they came to visit regularly; George was fairly certain they had a rota. Ron was tending to the shop, and he was thankful for the constant stream of support from all of them.

This wasn't easy for them, and he was grateful that they were all putting on a brave face to make him feel better.

Harry's condition hadn't changed much. The top Healers were working on his diagnosis and cure but weren't doing well, and the Aurors on Harry's case weren't prevailing either.

A few days after the attack, George was tucking the covers around Harry, when Ron marched into the room fuming, shortly followed by a livid Hermione.

"Any change?" she asked sharply. George frowned as he sat down.

"No. What's up?"

"That woman, that bloody _woman!_" Ron hissed as he paced back and fore. His fists were clenched and his teeth gritted.

George considered moving anything heavy and throwable out of his way.

Hermione appeared to be a bit calmer, and offered George that day's Daily Prophet.

"You should see this," she pointed to the front page. George continued to frown at her, but took the paper off her. It was extremely crumpled, like it had been wrung through frustrated hands.

He began to read, but as soon as he saw the headline, he knew what it was about.

_Boy-Who-Lived and Tragic Twin? By Rita Skeeter_

_It is common knowledge that Harry Potter, Wizarding World Saviour, is particularly close to the Weasley family. But is he closer to one than the rest? _

_The Boy-Who-Lived is currently in a dark magic induced coma, (reported two days ago at the time of event, and in more depth on page 5) and witnesses say that it wasn't the feisty Ginevra Weasley that was fighting to reach him. Readers will be shocked to learn that it wasn't even best friend and war hero, Ronald Weasley, causing havoc in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries on Tuesday, but was in fact his older brother, George Weasley. _

_Mr. Weasley has a tragic war story himself. His twin brother, Fred Weasley, who along with George were notorious pranksters at school, and closer than normal brothers, sources report, was killed in the Battle of Hogwarts on May 2__nd__ 1998. Perhaps the grieving twin who was left behind has found comfort in our Chosen One? _

_The owner of popular Diagon Alley joke shop, _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_, was sighted by a large number of eye witnesses to have burst into the hospital screaming bloody murder, and became violent when unallowed to see the Saviour. A reliable source has said how he broke down on seeing Potter's frail body, and has not left the boy's side, nor let go of his hand since arriving. _

_Unusual behaviour for someone who's simply your brother's best friend, no? Clearly, there is something more to this relationship than a brotherly one._

_Ginevra Weasley cannot be reached for comment, but I think it's safe to assume that she is utterly distraught as her supposedly loving older brother has snatched up her love interest and previous boyfriend, once he's saved Wizardkind and become more desirable. _

_So, my rabid readers, it appears that Harry Potter has fallen for a different Weasley than expected, and a male one at that._

George looked up from the paper, scrunching the pages in his hands. He had a fairly good idea who that one 'reliable source' was. That damned mediwitch who he hadn't seen since Harry had been brought in.

He didn't mind that people knew, that was bound to happen eventually. But it wasn't on their terms like they would have wanted it to be, and that was completely unprofessional and a betrayal of trust on the mediwitch's part.

As for the article, he just felt guilt. He already felt bad enough for effectively taking Harry from Ginny, but this made him seem awful; that he only wanted Harry because he was 'The Saviour'. It wasn't like that at all.

He knew he would be hated now.

He became aware of Ron's voice gradually rising, and sighed at the infamous, fiery Weasley temper which he was currently trying to keep at bay himself.

"… She can't mind her own bloody business! How dare she, how _dare _she say that about you!"

"She doesn't know what she's talking about," Hermione agreed,

"She's talking out of her _arse_!"

"Ron, calm down! You need to control yourself; I actually thought you were going to hit that journalist downstairs!"

"He was being extremely rude, impertinent and stupid. For Merlin's sake, he asked if I was jealous of George's relationship with Harry!"

"Downstairs?" Georg cut in, slightly puzzled. Hermione turned to face him.

"We got swamped by journalists and photographers who are desperate to get an exclusive with you. I'd avoid going down there if I were you," she advised.

"What are they all saying?" George wasn't sure if he really wanted to know. Hermione folded her arms and looked as if she was considering her answer carefully.

"There's ... a mixture of opinions,"

Ron snorted.

"Oh there's a mixture alright, there's one man shouting to leave you in peace, and one woman with a sign saying 'never trust a Ginger!'-,"

"Anyway," she shot Ron a dark glare before she continued, "some of the speculation is ridiculous. Honestly, I wouldn't worry about it if I were you,"

"There's a tonne of mail waiting for you back at the shop," Ron appeared to have calmed down a lot now, "I'm fairly confident that it's not all Trick Wand orders. Just a hunch really,"

George couldn't help but laugh, working in a joke shop was certainly rubbing off on Ron. But the second he did, he felt instantly guilty. How could he be laughing when Harry was like he was? He sighed, and looked back at the unconscious man.

"I'll deal with all of this once Harry's better,"

He heard Ron stop Hermione from saying something. He was glad. Honestly, he didn't care if she thought he was wrong or naive. Of course he loved Hermione like a sister, but if she didn't believe that Harry was getting better then he didn't want to listen to what she had to say.

* * *

><p>At first, he wasn't sure what woke him. He blinked in the morning light reflecting off the white cleanliness of the room, and then startled as he realised that a doe-eyed, blonde girl was gazing right into his face. George became even more worried when he realised she was flapping her hands around his head.<p>

"Luna?" he exclaimed.

"One second," she ordered.

There was a small crease between her eyebrows as she stared determinedly at the air around him, swatting at something invisible.

George was too confused to even stutter another word.

"That's the thing with these hospitals, so many wrackspurts," she muttered as she stepped back from him and placed her hands on her hips.

George remained frozen and sprawled out in his chair, unsure if it was safe to move yet.

But Luna appeared to be satisfied. With a 'humph' of approval, she leant over Harry's bed and kissed him on the forehead, attempting to tidy his mop of black hair before gliding over to the other side of the bed and plonking herself down into the other chair.

"How are you?" she asked. Strange, people normally asked how Harry was.

"A little scared, but okay thanks," he still hadn't moved from his cowering position. Luna smiled sadly.

"Well that's understandable,"

George figured she thought he meant scared about Harry rather than scared about her. He didn't correct her.

He didn't know Luna Lovegood very well. She had been in Dumbledore's Army, was very close to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, so she reckoned he was safe enough. But apart from that, he hadn't had a lot to do with her in the past.

There was something different about her to everyone else who visited though. She seemed less … mournful.

"How's Harry doing? It's been five days now hasn't it?" she asked.

George sighed.

"Yes," he pushed his blanket off him, and rubbed his still sleepy eyes, "he's the same,"

She nodded.

"Well when he wakes up, I need to tell him something, so hopefully he won't be too long,"

And then he understood. She thought that he was going to wake up as well. She had hope where the others didn't.

She sounded so sure of herself that George wanted to scoop her up and swing her around like he would Teddy.

Teddy.

Andromeda thought it best that he didn't see Harry in the state he was. He pushed the little boy out of his mind, and brought himself back to the present.

"He will," he said quietly. Luna looked at him for a moment.

"Have you tried talking to him?" she asked.

George frowned, and shifted in his seat.

"No. He can't hear me can he, so there's no point," he said shrugging.

"How do you know that?" she asked. Her voice wasn't accusing, just curious. He shrugged again.

"He's in a coma," he stated.

"And?"

She puzzled him. Everything was so simple with her, so obvious and straightforward. He quite liked that.

"Why don't _you_ talk to him then?" he asked.

She thought for a second, and then shook her head.

"No, no, I think it needs to be you,"

What did she mean by that?

"Well I don't know, but thanks anyway,"

"You're welcome," she beamed.

Ginny had always said that she was unusual, but she had also said that she was the most insightful, empathetic person she knew.

George decided that he liked Luna Lovegood very much.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Sorry this has taken so long, there will probably be a bigger gap between chapters because I'm really busy now. Hope you enjoy this and keep reading and reviewing!**

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><p>It had been two weeks and Harry was still in a coma, and he hadn't made an inch of progress. The only thing that was keeping George sane while he was cooped up in that tiny room, day in, day out, was his hope and the visits from his friends and family.<p>

He looked forward to Luna's visits the most. Every time, she would encourage him to talk to Harry, but George just couldn't bear the fact that he wouldn't reply. She never pushed the matter past mentioning it.

They talked about a lot of the things. About Hogwarts, the joke shop, her various favourite non-existent creatures, Harry, the list was endless. But Luna was so endearing, that he found that she was steadily becoming one of his closest friends.

Dean and Seamus had visited quite a few times, and Neville came often. George noticed the situation was affecting the guy particularly badly. He would just sit there staring most of the time, only making conversation on occasion.

* * *

><p>He towelled off his damp hair after a quick shower, wiping the stray beads of water that trickled icily down his backbone and between shoulder blades; causing little shudders to ripple through his body.<p>

After pulling on his clothes, and a quick warming charm, he headed back into the ward, hoping to see his father, maybe, or Bill or Neville or Luna.

But instead, he saw a different blonde head to what he was expecting.

Draco Malfoy was stood at the end of the bed, his expression hard as he watched Harry's lifeless form. His body was rigid as he stayed stock still, not even blinking. George felt the anger begin to bubble and clenched his fists at his sides.

"Come to gloat?" he snarled. Malfoy swung around startled, but George cut him off as he went to speak. "Come to see the news for yourself? That Harry Potter's dying _and _gay?" he spat, "Field day for you isn't it Malfoy?"

"That's not why I'm here, Weasley-," he started,

"The Hell it is, Malfoy," he waited for him to argue back but the Ex-Death Eater simply went back to watching Harry.

"How is he?" he asked quietly.

George was shocked. Surely he didn't care?

He didn't know what made him answer truthfully.

"It's not looking good."

Malfoy nodded. George thought he must have been mistaken, but he was sure he saw a hint of sadness in his expression. And was that a trace of_ guilt_?

"I thought you'd be in Azkaban?" he finally said after a long silence. Draco shook his head.

"My Mother saved Harry's life by telling the Dark Lord he was dead, and I didn't give him away when he was brought to the Manor," he explained, "we were cleared because we helped him," he frowned, "didn't Harry tell you that he testified for us?"

He wasn't accusing or jeering, he seemed genuinely puzzled. George matched his frown. Why had Harry kept that from him?

"No he didn't," he mumbled. He expected Malfoy to take advantage of that, to make some snide comment. But he simply gave a small shrug. This was bizarre.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" He asked softly. He knew the look in his eyes and his tone of voice made him look weak, but he was past the point of caring.

He didn't look up.

"I wanted to see him," the Slytherin said hoarsely.

"Why?"

"To see if it was true,"

"About me and him?" George felt himself growing annoyed again, but that was pushed away when the blonde shook his head profusely.

"No, if he was really dying," George winced at that, "but I'm guessing it is true about the two of you?" he added.

"Yes it is," George said defiantly. Once again, no comment. Just a nod.

George felt extremely wary, he did not know how to handle this Draco, and that unnerved him deeply.

"How did you even get in?" the thought occurred to him that no other unwanted visitors had got in, so how come he did?

"My third cousin is a Healer here," he explained. George fumed.

"This _damn_ hospital and their _damn_ staff," he muttered. He crossed the room and took Harry's hand, feeling the barely-there warmth.

"He saved my life,"

George looked back at Malfoy. He'd spoken so quietly he was unsure if he'd said anything at all.

"He did?"

Malfoy nodded.

"Yeah,"

George smiled, and looked back at Harry's deathly face.

"Me too," he said. More than Draco would ever know. Malfoy nodded again.

"I bet he did,"

George chuckled and squeezed his lover's hand a bit tighter.

"Well that's Harry isn't it?"

For the first time, Draco smiled.

"It certainly is."

* * *

><p>"Ginny punched someone!"<p>

George's head shot up from staring at the floor at Percy's news.

"_What_?" he gasped.

"Yup!" Ron looked positively proud, "Served him right, that bloke was a right git,"

"What happened?" George asked, still shell-shocked. Desperately looking from brother to brother, waiting for one of them to explain.

"Basically," Charlie began to explain. Charlie, Ron, Percy and George all sat around the room, Percy upright in his chair, Charlie in the window seat and Ron cross legged on the end of Harry's bed. George of course, was in his usual place. "This one wizard, I'd say early twenties, big guy, was sitting at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron talking rather loudly about you and Harry …" he suddenly looked rather angry.

George then didn't want to know what the man had been saying.

"He was saying some rather obscene stuff and was being really nasty and disgusting, about you particularly. I was on my way over there to teach him some manners myself but Gin beat me to it," he actually looked regretful.

"She tapped him on the shoulder, and once he turned around, she just punched him in the face!" Percy clearly hadn't been able to contain himself any longer, and was like an excited child as he relived his thrilling experience.

"And Tom didn't even bar her or anything, even after she hexed him! He turned a blind eye; he'd heard everything the guy was saying too,"

George was gobsmacked.

"Are you telling me, that my adorable little sister took out a full grown man in a pub?"

"Yes she did! He fell off his stool she hit him so hard!" Ron was beaming.

Hermione was watching them all from the corner with a book on her lap disapprovingly.

"But why did she _punch_ him?" George asked. Hermione sighed, and snapped her book shut.

"I think she feels guilty about how she acted before," she said, "she feels like she wasted her remaining time with Harry by being jealous and angry. And she can't believe she was ever unhappy about the two of you."

The room was silent.

Remaining time.

George fought back tears as he pushed back Harry's hair affectionately. Why couldn't he just open his eyes? All they had to do was flicker open in that sweet way they did and everything would be alright again.

Although George was with Harry twenty-four hours a day, he'd never felt further away from him as he watched him slowly slipping away.

He missed him. Harry had been the one who saved him; if he hadn't been there after Fred died he didn't know what he would have done.

If he lost him now, he would lose himself.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Sorry chapters are taking so long everyone, but I'm so busy at the moment it's ridiculous! I quite like this chapter so I really hope you do too. This fic was originally going to be only four chapters long so I'm not sure how many more there are going to be. But please be patient with me, and don't worry, I intend to finish this! Please keep reading and reviewing and I'll love you forever ;)**

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><p>George slowly felt himself begin to wake up. His limbs were stiff from being in the same awkward position all night long. Chairs were not comfortable to sleep in.<p>

He could hear voices; he groaned inwardly as the last thing he wanted to do was make conversation. Everything was so strained now, three weeks later with no change, and he was struggling to be cooperative when all he could do was watch Harry slip away.

He kept his eyes tight shut, and listened to the hushed voices, instantly recognising them as his mother and father's.

"I can't lose another son Arthur, I won't be able to handle it," his mother sniffled. George's heart jumped.

"Molly, we need to be strong for Harry," his Dad soothed.

"I can't! I've already lost Fred, and how is George going to cope? And Ron? Oh Merlin, Arthur I can't bear this!" she began to weep.

And for the second time in his life, George heard his father cry. It was wrong. His parents were suffering and it wasn't fair.

It was his fault. It was _all his fault_.

He should have protected Harry, protected Fred; he was the cause of their pain. Harry was dying, and he would be alone once again. And his parents would hate him for it.

He didn't know where all these thoughts were coming from, but nothing had ever made more sense to him.

He heard his Dad sniff and clear his throat.

"Come on dear, let's go home,"

He waited until the scraping of the chair legs against the floor ceased. He waited until the shuffled footsteps of his parents stopped. He waited until he heard the door swing closed. He threw off his blanket and leaned over Harry's silent body, clutching at his chest.

"Right, you listen to me," he said forcefully, "You did _not_ face Voldemort countless times and beat him, to be defeated by a bitter Death eater. You did _not_ get through that damned Triwizard Tournament to be killed by some stupid dark curse. You did _not_ last seventeen years with the Dursleys, in constant danger, or on the run to die now. You did _not_ save my life and let me fall in love with you to leave me here!"

It was then that he knew Harry wasn't going to wake up.

He buried his face in Harry's cotton shirt, bunching the material in his fists as he fought back those God forsaken tears that he'd shed enough of to last three lifetimes.

Finally, forcing himself to stop, he let go of Harry and rose to his feet.

Looking at the boy one last time, he turned around and left the hospital.

Left Harry.

* * *

><p>It would be quick and simple.<p>

Not messy; just like being stunned.

It was time now.

George stood alone in his and Fred's childhood bedroom, and cats his gaze over the Quidditch posters, the products, the dirty clothes and the experiments.

It had to be done here.

He stood upright and strong with his back to the door; he raised his wand, and pointed it at his temple. It felt like a friend, ready to help.

His eyes fluttered shut.

He took a deep breath.

Just two words. Two words that would come so easily now …

"GEORGE! What the-!" Someone yanked his arm away violently and pulled his wand away from him.

No. No he wanted to end this. He struggled against the person clutching his wrists. If he could only reach his wand…

"GEORGE!" The person shook him and he jerked to a stop. It was Neville holding him. His eyes were wild as he stared at him, a mixture of anger, disbelief and relief. He grabbed George's face in his hands, gripping him tightly like he could force the sense into him.

"WHAT ARE YOU THINKING!" he bellowed, "Don't you DARE!" he was shaking uncontrollably.

George then noticed Luna standing in the doorway, hands over her mouth and tears streaming down her pale face.

He'd done that to her. How could he have been so stupid?

Finally, he collapsed into Neville's arms and began to cry.

Neville held him close and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Thank Merlin we got to you in time," he murmured. Luna walked further into the room, and crouched down beside the boys.

"George, look at me," she whispered. He glanced up into those bright eyes. She took his hand and squeezed gently. "It's Harry," she whispered.

The panic rose again. What? No, no.

"What Luna? What's happened to him?" his voice was so unsteady, he was amazed he'd managed to get words out. Beginning to feel his world crashing down on him, he grabbed for her hand. She shook her head, still crying.

"He's fighting."

* * *

><p>George had rushed back to the hospital with Neville and Luna, frantic and desperate to see Harry.<p>

He'd grabbed his hand upon arriving. It was a little bit warmer.

He watched the boy's chest rise a bit higher, the purple on his eyelids had lessened and his cheeks the tiniest bit pinker. All these small details gave him so much hope.

"He's better! Why is he better!" he asked the Healer who was examining Harry.

"We're not sure," the man frowned at Harry as he waved his wand over his body, making him glow red and orange. He looked so beautiful.

Why was all the staff here so impersonal? This Healer wouldn't even look at him. George wanted to see his eyes; the amazement or the hopelessness.

"His heart rate and brain activity have increased," he explained, "his breathing has improved as well. It does seem as though he's pushing against it,"

George wanted to scream and shout. His Harry was getting better.

The Healer seemed to think of something.

"Mr Potter is able to fight off the Imperius curse isn't he?"

"Oh yes," Luna assured him, as if she was making sure the man was fully aware of Harry's power.

"I think that ability may have something to do with it," he said, giving her a strange look.

"Well you see, I suspect the Wild Hillykrinks," Luna insisted, "they inhabit the closed mind you see, and once meaningful outside speech is heard, they begin to build up a resistance …"

As Luna rattled on, the Healer looked rather alarmed and put out at being told how to do his job.

But George only got one thing out of her ramblings. He'd spoken to Harry for the first time that morning, and then he'd got better. Luna had been right all along. All he had to do was talk to him.

He heard Neville chuckle, and turned to watch him take Luna's hand.

Well that was new.

Smiling, he turned back to Harry to stroke his cheek, and leant down to whisper into his ear.

"I'm here, Harry. I'm here."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Once again, sorry for taking so long, and also sorry for this being such a short chapter. I hope you're enjoying this fic and thanks for reviewing/subscribing/favouriting. More reviews would be AMAZING. Thanks again, and hopefully I'll have another chapter up very soon!**

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><p>George had thought the building was on fire at first when a surge of red dominated the doorway, as the entire Weasley family burst into the hospital room.<p>

Hermione had nearly fainted at the good news, and Ron had just fallen into a chair with his head in his hands. Ginny was crying, and Percy, Bill, Charlie and Fleur had started some kind of war dance, which Luna promptly joined in dragging Neville along, adding her own special twist.

His Mother and Father had just stood there and held each other.

George was too wary though to celebrate as his family were. He didn't dare hope too much in case he suddenly started slipping away all over again.

Angry frustration grew inside him as he became more and more cross with himself; he'd been so stupid, so weak. Harry needed him to be strong, and he'd gone and tried to kill himself.

He'd glanced at Neville worriedly as they all celebrated, but one look from him, and he knew that it was an unspoken agreement that he and Luna wouldn't tell anyone what George had attempted to do.

And thank Merlin he hadn't succeeded.

* * *

><p>From then on, he talked to Harry as much as he could. Everyone else wanted to as well, but Luna was insistent that it had to be George.<p>

She had been so right in the first place that no one had even thought to argue with her.

Information had once again been leaked to the press, (Arthur had been outraged) and the media had gone mental. The Weasleys mobbed on arriving as they struggled through the lobby, trying to get to Harry.

Hermione had had to hold Ron and Ginny back a fair few times, and Bill had even had to restrain Fleur.

There had been a lot of speculation going round; particularly on whether George was going to parade Harry around when he woke up (Hermione didn't like that) and whether there would be feuds in within the Weasleys; surprisingly, with Ron's jealousy mentioned more than Ginny, ("I don't know why they can't see that _I'm_ not the gay one!" he'd complained loudly).

People didn't stop visiting. There was a constant ebb and flow of people, and although George appreciated their support, he really wanted some time alone with Harry.

There was now a strict list of people who were allowed in, with the obvious people and also including Dean, Seamus, Neville, Luna, and to the complete surprise of everyone, George asked Malfoy to be put on the list.

The blonde had arrived the day the news broke out, eyes full of disbelief and George began to explain without question. He'd never seen him so relieved, or with any sort of emotion that could be even considered weak. But he could also see the doubt in Draco, that he had himself.

What if this was a false alarm and Harry wasn't going to get better?

All George could do, was keep talking.

* * *

><p>Harry had never felt so heavy. He tried to open his eyes but it was like there were weights pressing down on his eyelids, on his entire body. He could barely move. He groaned. He was so, <em>so<em> tired.

"Harry?" the frantic whisper stirred something within him. He felt someone grab his hand.

There had been that crushing blackness, pushing him deeper and deeper into himself before he'd began to become completely lost.

"Come on, Harry,"

He knew that voice; he liked that voice.

Harry open your eyes, it's not that hard.

Slowly but surely, he forced his eyes open.

As they adjusted to the blinding light, dark pupils changing shape on vibrant green irises, he saw a face.

He saw his face; that incredible face that had made everything better once upon a time, and he remembered.

That distant murmuring like it was coming from another room that had worked its way into his subconscious like it was reaching out to him. Something about it had sounded so right to him, that he thought to himself that he must fight, that this person needed him. He must get to it, and nothing on Earth could stop him.

He knew now that it was George.

"Oh, Harry …"

George. His George.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Hello all, how about giving me a little review?;) hope you're liking the story, and just so you know I'm not in the process of writing any others at the moment, so this is the one with my attention. To give you fair warning, the last chapter will probably have a rather large author's note, and when that time comes, if you read it all that would be wonderful. Thanks for keeping with it!xx**

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><p>George had never been more relieved in his life than when he saw Harry's eyes open. He'd leaned over him at once, caressing his cheek and stroking his forehead as his own hot tears began to fall.<p>

"George," Harry whispered hoarsely.

"I'm here, Harry, I'm here," he choked out, placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

Harry smiled and George gave a wet laugh. Merlin, he'd missed that.

"Good."

"George?"

George didn't look away from Harry at Ron's voice, but kept his eyes firmly on the man he loved.

"He's awake," he said loudly. He heard the rush of frantic footsteps as his younger brother, Hermione and Bill all sprinted to the bedside.

Harry smiled at the three staring at him, all with their mouths wide open. There was a few seconds of complete silence.

And suddenly, before he could even blink, George watched Ron throw himself on top of Harry, sprawled out all over him in a weird kind of hug.

Hermione's hand flew to her mouth as she began to cry and laugh all at the same time and Bill just chuckled.

"Welcome back mate," he laughed.

"Thanks," Harry's muffled voice mumbled from underneath Ron's heavy body. Growing protective, George began to encourage Ron off Harry. He was not planning on losing him now to being crushed to death by his own brother.

"You have some explaining to do," Harry said after George and Bill had prized a tearful redhead off him.

As Bill went to fetch a Healer, George began to explain everything. How he'd been attacked, how he'd been unconscious for a month and they all thought he wasn't going to make it.

Just as George was about to explain about the press, two Healers, three Mediwitches, a Mediwizard, the rest of the family and Luna all piled into the room.

Well that was their peace gone.

The Healers began bombarding him with questions, and Molly and Fleur bombarded him with wet kisses and hugs.

But George knew who needed help right now. He just pulled a shaking Ginny and Luna towards him and embraced them so he held them tightly against his body. They didn't fight against him, just buried their faces into his side willingly. He heard them both sniffing and watched them wipe their eyes below him. Bill has his arms around Percy and Charlie's shoulders, and Arthur stood quietly in the corner, clearly fighting back tears.

George's gaze was suddenly drawn towards a small, empty space on the other side of Harry's bed. He felt something strange, but calming and warm.

He smiled.

"Thanks Freddie."

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for Kingsley to arrive with his team of Aurors. He headed straight for Harry and patted his hand gently, his eyes twinkling and happy once again, if a little tired.<p>

"How are you doing, m'boy?" his voice boomed. Harry smiled.

"I'm alright thanks,"

Kingsley smiled back but as one of the Aurors cleared his throat, he suddenly became more business-like.

"Right, I know that you are still very weak and tired, but I am going to need you to answer some questions,"

Harry sighed, and closed his eyes.

"I expected this. Go ahead,"

George saw his fingers waver, and instantly took his hand. It still surprised him how in tune they were with each other now.

"Okay, can you remember who attacked you?" he said as if approaching a frightened deer.

Harry tensed at the thought of the man; _that_ man. The man who he knew had killed Remus, and many others.

"It was Dolohov," a wave of recognition rippled throughout the room and he felt George's grip on his hand tighten painfully. "He jumped me and began to torture me straight away, I can't remember anything else."

The searing Weasley anger was hot and thick in the room, with each member, plus Hermione, tensed in rage. Harry could see all of them staring determinedly ahead, fists clenched and breathing like dragons.

Kingsley nodded at the Aurors who began to leave immediately.

"Thank you, Harry. Now concentrate on getting better,"

"Thanks Minister."

Kingsley smiled, and nodded once again, before turning on his heel elegantly, and following his colleagues out of the room. The remaining occupants were silent.

"George, you're hurting me," Harry whimpered. Suddenly becoming aware of his vice-like grip on Harry's hand, George shook himself and relaxed his muscles.

"If they don't catch him, _I'll_ find him and kill him," George seethed.

"I'll be right there with you," Ron muttered.

"And you can bloody well count me in too-,"

"BOYS!" Molly had clearly had enough after Charlie's statement.

But Harry could only chuckle, as he just felt wonderfully safe and protected.

* * *

><p>Harry was thankful that he and George were finally alone together.<p>

He'd managed to shift Harry along the bed slightly, but only with George's reluctant help as his movement was still limited and his muscles so weak. Although George had protested at first Harry had ignored him and the pain so that he could lie in the bed with him.

They lay together as close as possible, Harry on his back and George on his side with his arm draped over Harry's chest.

"Everyone knows," George's voice was deafening in the late night silence. Harry attempted an awkward lying down shrug.

"Well yeah…"

"No, I mean _everyone_, Harry, as in the papers won't stop talking about it,"

Harry frowned and looked very worried. George tried to keep the anger at bay once again, as thought of the Daily Prophet invaded his mind.

"Really?"

George nodded.

"Well what are they saying?" he asked.

George didn't say anything for a second, but instead tightened his grip slightly on Harry's body, not so that he hurt him, but so that the boy felt protected and warm. He sighed.

"They all think that I am only interested in you because you're the saviour of the Wizarding World, and that I stole you away from Ginny,"

"What!" Harry yelled. George quickly put his hand against Harry's chest to stop him from getting up and hurting himself.

"I know, I know," he kept his hand firmly on his chest. "Look, don't worry about this now okay? We'll deal with it when you're better."

Harry looked at him sceptically, but once George leaned over to place a light kiss on his lips, he felt his distress wash away settled back into the bed.

But then, a thought suddenly occurred to George, and there was no way he could let it rest. Excited, he continued to look into Harry's eyes and pushed his messy fringe back, his thumb stroking small patterns on his forehead as he smiled like a fool. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before.

"Move in with me."

Harry went back to frowning.

"What?"

"Move in with me," George repeated.

Harry continued to frown. He was going to get frown lines soon if he wasn't careful, George thought.

"Would your Mum let me?"

It was George's turn to frown. _He _would get frown lines soon if he wasn't careful.

"Good point. But really though, think about it. We can live together in the flat, I can look after you and Ron and I can carry on running the shop, we'd always be close, and well …I love you, so why the hell not?"

Harry smiled and out of the corner of his eye, George saw him try to lift his hand; but he was still so weak so it fell limp by his side. He took the hand and squeezed.

"Please?"

Harry exhaled slowly and George knew he'd won.

"Okay."

That night was the best night's sleep George had had in a very long time.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Here you go! Thanks for the new reviews and more would be amazing :') Enjoy, my beautiful people xx**

"No. Absolutely not."

"Mum, come on-,"

"No, he needs to be nursed back to health and I can do that,"

"And I can't!"

"I'm practically his _mother_, George!"

George had known his Mum's compliance wasn't likely, but he'd be damned if he was going to let her walk all over him. He and Harry were of age now, and really there wasn't anything she could do about it.

But she was his Mum. And he wanted her approval.

"Mum, they're both adults now, and it'll be good for them-,"

"Ronald Weasley, this does not concern you," Molly scolded viciously.

"For Merlin's sake Mum! They aren't children anymore!" Ginny screeched with frustration; George, Molly and Ron all jumped, "Harry will get better sooner if he is with George as much as possible! Surely you can see that?"

Molly pursed her lips and didn't say a word. George knew that she meant well, but he wanted Harry with him. His Mum sighed.

"It's not only about Harry," she said quietly, turning to George, "it's you."

"What?" Ron asked dumbly. But George understood.

"I'll be fine,"

"Have you even been back in there yet?"

After a moment, George shook his head.

"No. But Mum I'm better, I'll be fine,"

Molly raised her eyebrows at him, and took hold of his arms rubbing them affectionately.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

George nodded more certainly this time.

"Yes,"

She continued to look right at him, right into him, before finally she stood on her tip toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him warmly.

"Okay then."

{-}

Harry was over the moon when George told him that Molly had agreed, shocked, but happy. He couldn't wait to be out of there, but he was scared.

Scared of what people would be like around him now; scared whether he was actually going to fully recover; scared that he wouldn't be able to go back to the job that he loved doing so much.

He knew George would always be there for him, but he couldn't help but be anxious.

He was distracted from his worries though, when Neville and Luna made an unexpected announcement. They were together.

He'd came dangerously close to leaping from the bed to congratulate the two of them, but George and Percy, predicting this move, managed to restrain him before he did any serious damage to himself.

He was so happy for them it was unreal. They really deserved each other, both of them were amazing, brave people who had been through so much and lost so much.

It reminded him a lot of his and George's relationship.

He watched the way they looked at each other, the way there was always a part of them touching even if it was just their arms lightly brushing. He knew that was what he and George were like, and it filled him with elation to think about.

{-}

"Are you ready?"

No. But he had to be.

"Yes," he said determinedly.

"Want me to come with you?" Hermione asked, "Or any of us for that matter," she added, taking Ron's hand. George smiled.

"Nah, I'm a big boy now,"

Good, that got a laugh out of the miserable lot.

"This is something I need to do alone," he said more seriously.

His family nodded in understanding. After one last reassuring smile, he turned on the spot, and apparated outside _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_. Diagon Alley was eerily quiet; it was warm though, with a reassuring breeze.

This was the easy part; he'd been in the shop many times since the war.

He unlocked the door. The first thing he saw was the humungous pile of letters on the counter that towered above him, clearly held up by magic. He couldn't face that now; he knew what it would all be about. He turned away from it, and opened the door that revealed the staircase that led up to the flat.

He hadn't been up there since the war.

He saw the door looming above him, like it was glaring down at his inferior self. He took a deep breath, and gathering all of his Gryffindor courage, made his way up. His fingers lingered tantalisingly on the brass doorknob when he reached it.

He closed his eyes and muttered a charm as he twisted the handle.

It swung wide open slowly, with a long, high pitched creak.

It was exactly how they'd left it that day they'd had to run. The Death Eaters had found out Ron was with Harry after the whole thing at Malfoy Manor; so naturally, they'd gone for his brothers.

It was messy. Papers and notes all over the table, clothes and cushions covered the floor and were thrown lazily over the sofas. The kitchen was grubby; the washing was left unclean and potion ingredients and mixtures were all over the worktops in different sized cauldrons. Products old and new littered the floor and basically anything with a remotely flat surface.

Yes, it was a pigsty, but it had been home. His and Fred's place of their own, where they'd finally become men.

He wasn't crying and he found that odd; he was sure that he would break down like he always seemed to do nowadays.

The complete silence was alien, and his deep, heavy breathing was the only sound. He could practically hear Fred humming as he worked on a new product, could actually see him deep in concentration in the kitchen; see him turn around and wink at him and call him over to see their new idea's progress. He felt his presence in every nook and cranny.

He took one step, and then another.

He was in.

He walked over to the sofa and picked up a shirt draped over the back. It was Fred's. He ran the soft material through his fingers, and brought it up to his face to breathe in the familiar scent, causing a wave of nostalgia to flutter through his body.

He closed his eyes and smiled.

Welcome home.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: So sorry this has taken longer than the other chapters, thanks for all the reviews and favourites etc. Here's a longer chapter for you now, really hope you like it. Thanks, and once again, reviews would be amazing. xx**

* * *

><p>George spent the next week making the flat habitable for him and Harry to live in and suitable so that Harry could be looked after properly. His family helped a lot, particularly Ron and Hermione who were there every day.<p>

It was scrubbed down until it was finally remotely clean, and Hermione enlarged the back room in the shop and ordered that that room, and that room alone was where product manufacture and development would take place.

They bought a new sofa bed so that Harry didn't have to be cooped up in his room all the time. Ron managed to persuade Hermione to get Harry a muggle television set, but she only agreed because George gave her enough money so that she could buy a load of books for Harry at Flourish and Blotts as well.

They stocked up the cupboards with food, and moved all of Harry's stuff into his and George's new bedroom, (George had failed to mention to his mother that as well as sharing a room, they would be sharing a bed).

Even though Harry was still weak he had regained some his strength, so it was decided that he was allowed to leave as long as a mediwitch or wizard visited every other day.

Mrs Weasley helped Harry get dressed into a T-shirt, tracksuit bottoms and Weasley jumper to make him as comfortable as possible; she didn't let George help him, but Harry knew it wasn't because she thought it inappropriate, but because she felt like it was one thing she could do seeing as she wouldn't be looking after him all the time.

There was no doubt in his mind though, that she would be dropping by at every opportunity.

Once Harry was ready to go, George draped a blanket over his shoulders and he and Ron supported him between them as they half carried him to the main Healer's office.

To avoid the press who had gone wilder still on discovering Harry had woken up, they would use the floo in the head of department's office.

Hermione, Bill and Fleur were poised ready at the fireplace back at the flat, to catch Harry when they sent him through the floo network. George and Ron were quick to arrive after him and saw them lowering him down onto the sofa bed.

They all bustled about hurriedly to get him comfortable and settled. Ron stopped a fair few times to have a go at George to wipe the 'stupid smile' off his face.

But he couldn't help it.

He was just so happy that Harry had now moved in with him. Was now _living_ with him.

He was eager to get everyone to leave, and once he'd finally forced them all out, practically dragging Ron out of the door, George cooked a nice, if slightly overcooked meal and they were now tucked up warmly on the sofa bed, watching a film.

Well, attempting to anyway.

"I don't get it,"

"What don't you get?"

"She said she'd never let go,"

"Yeah?"

"Well she did,"

"That's not the point-,"

"So she lied?"

"This is an iconic film you know, and was very successful in the muggle world,"

George clicked his tongue.

"Well I think it's a bit silly to be honest."

"Fine!"

Giving up, Harry switched the film off with the remote and slumped further back into the bed.

George was suddenly really worried he'd upset him. He rolled over onto his side, and cushioned his cheek on the back of his hand, studying Harry's face for any trace of hurt.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said smiling, but George could see there was something else bothering Harry.

"It's the press isn't it?"

Harry's mouth became a thin line. He nodded.

"Does it matter what they think?" George said getting worried. Could this actually jeopardise their relationship?

"No, of course not," Harry said hastily, George sighed in relief, "it's just … I thought I was done with all that after the end of the war, and I don't need a new reason for people to hate me, really," he said laughing. But George saw right through it.

"You do realise that they're going to hate _me_, not you. I bloody _turned_ the famous Harry Potter, took you off the market, and apparently only want you for your fame and glory,"

"And I don't want that for you! George you need to understand that if you stay with me, there's going to be a whole lot of crap coming your way. I've already been attacked, this is going to make _you_ target number two, and people aren't as accepting as we'd like to think. I know what it's like to have the press influence people's opinion of you, and trust me, it's not good."

George sighed, and pushed himself up to sitting. He took Harry's hand in both of his, and held it loosely in his lap, rubbing the pale skin softly with his thumb. He took a moment to just look at Harry, before he began.

"Trust me, I know how stressful it is to be your friend, let alone the boyfriend of Harry freaking Potter," Harry smirked, "you're a bloody danger _magnet_, and I spent an entire year worrying about you as well as Ron and Hermione last year. I'm fully aware what people are like, I mean hello! Famous blood traitor here, and what they think and really, do you remember what I was like in Hogwarts? Did Fred and I take anything from anyone?"

Harry remembered him attacking Malfoy after Quidditch, threatening Zacharias Smith in the Hog's Head and nearly blackmailing Ludo Bagman. No, he and Fred had certainly not taken any shit from people. Seeing Harry's smile, George squeezed his hand tighter.

"And don't forget, I survived the war while in the Order, took part in Wizarding Wireless Network, all with the threat of death over my head. I fought in the Battle of Hogwarts. I lost my twin, Harry. I know what I'm getting myself in for okay?"

Harry didn't like it that George had won, but he couldn't help but feel more reassured. George seemed so certain of himself; he knew that there was no way he would give in.

"Look, it's Sunday tomorrow," George carried on, "I won't open the shop, I'll get the others to come over and we'll sort through all that mail downstairs, and _then_ we'll see what people think."

Harry felt sick at the thought of what some of them might say, but he knew he'd have to face it sooner or later. He couldn't just ignore it.

"Whatever you say."

* * *

><p>"We've got another one who's happy for you. Seems a bit of an odd bloke mind you…" Ron chucked the letter to Hermione who dropped it onto the pile with the other supportive letters without taking her eyes of the note she was currently reading.<p>

"Urgh! Of course someone had to bring money into this!" she exclaimed in outrage.

George bobbed up and down from his cross legged position on the floor of the shop with his hand straight up, imitating an over eager student. Harry got an overwhelming sense of just…Hermione-ness.

"Ooh! Ooh, let me guess – they think that because the Weasleys are so poor and the Potters so wealthy, that I'm just after Harry's Gringott's account!"

"Got it in one," Percy grumbled, reading over Hermione's shoulder.

Harry watched Neville's expression as he read through one letter, and by the looks of it, it was the worst one yet. His face was scrunched up in disgust.

He threw it aside to the ever growing negative pile and huffed, running his fingers through his hair.

"You'd think that after saving the Wizarding World and all, that people would just want you to be happy?" He sighed.

"Yeah, you'd think so wouldn't you?" Bill muttered darkly as his eyes flickered over clearly another unpleasant letter.

They'd been sitting for three hours now, all on the floor of the flat except for Harry, who was in his sofa bed, Ginny, who was cwtched platonically next to him, and Luna cross legged at his feet.

George would have protested at Ginny's proximity to Harry, but it was all too clear to him now that the relationship between the two of them was like brother and sister.

He was fairly sure that Ginny may have actually been seeing someone without telling them all.

They were sorting the letters into three piles; one for supportive letters, another for the not so nice letters, and the third for the letters that looked as if they contained something either dangerous, wet or alive.

That one was surprisingly large and the majority of them were addressed to George.

Harry felt himself feeling more and more hopeless as he read some of the letters himself. Yes, there were some really nice, supportive ones, but without a doubt, the ones offering to try and help either reverse the effects of the love potion/curse or check his mental stability for him, were outweighing those with words of kindness.

George didn't seem that bothered; in fact, Harry watched him as he read through one letter, smiled and tossed it to Harry.

"Read that," he told him.

Frowning, Harry looked down at the sheet of paper with brown stains which Harry really hoped was mud. He squinted down at the messy, black scrawl that was clearly littered with spelling and grammar mistakes. But once he realised who it was from, a smile split his face.

_Thanks for tellin me you ruddy tyke you. I only intrudused you to the wizardin world and carryed you out of the forrest thinkin Id just watched you die but no. You didnt think to tell me youd gone and fallen for George Weasley! Sorry I aint been abel to visit you son but Ive had to stay at the school and all with the state its bin in. I knew wake up so I havent bin to worryed. Wunce agen you prooved me rite! I am very happy for you Harry remember that, and for George as well. You need each other and clearly love each other so thats all good. You havent been to see me and I expekt a visit wen your better and I wont take no for an anser. Don't be a stranger and brin Ron and Hermiyoney wile your at it. And George as well. Always liked that boy._

_ Love Hagrid_

Harry put down the letter and continued to smile.

It didn't _really _matter what other people thought. Just the people he cared about.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: Hi people, hope you like this chapter! Coming to the end now, so there probably will only be a couple more chapters. Thanks for sticking with me and for all the reviews, how about a few more?;) Love you all xx  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"There's someone here to see you."<p>

Harry had been home for a few days and he was already feeling a lot stronger. He and George had discussed with the mediwitch that soon they would try and get him up and about again. He could sit up now though, move his arms and legs fine and generally felt better.

George and Ron were working hard after reopening the shop, and they were taking turns along with the other Weasleys, Hermione, Neville and Luna to look after and keep an eye on Harry. None of them actually trusted him to stay put and rest if left on his own.

George was standing in the entrance to the flat, looking quite serious.

"Yeah? Who?" Harry asked, stretching his arms out like a cat.

George stepped aside to reveal an unusually nervous Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway.

Harry tensed and his eyebrows flew up in shock, more at the fact that George was now pulling the unwary Slytherin into the flat, encouraging him in rather forcefully, yet not nastily.

"I'm going to pop back downstairs, okay?" George said, shooting Malfoy a warning glance. He turned to Harry, "Call if you need me, alright?"

Harry nodded and attempted a reassuring smile. He couldn't believe George was actually trusting _Malfoy_ to be alone with him.

Giving Malfoy one last look, he backed out of the room and closed the door.

There was an awkward silence between the two of them; a pregnant pause that seemed to go on forever. Everything that had gone on between the two of them hanging in the air; all the past hatred, bitterness and rivalry, yet also the help that they had given each other towards the end.

Draco hadn't moved an inch, and continued to stand uncomfortably in the corner. Harry couldn't bare it any longer.

"Merlin, how much did I miss when I was out?"

Draco couldn't help but smirk.

"Too much."

Harry sighed, "So I'm guessing he knows?" he asked. Draco nodded. Harry closed his eyes, "I'm going to pay for that," he muttered. He opened his eyes again.

Clearly Draco knew that he and George were together. He found it quite odd that he wasn't making some remark. Then again, he'd saved him and his family big time.

"So why are you here?" Harry asked. Malfoy shrugged.

"George sort of forced me-,"

"So it's George now?" Harry cut in. The ex-Death Eater looked confused for a moment, until finally it hit him.

"I hadn't even realised," he said amusedly. More silence. "I visited you," he said suddenly. Once again, Harry was shocked.

"You did?"

Draco nodded.

"I never thanked you," he said quietly.

Harry knew he would say no more than that, but he also knew that that _was_ Malfoy's thanks, and that was enough for him.

"Congratulations by the way," he guestured to Harry, "you and him."

Harry shrugged, but inside, the disbelief and shock were raging. Things certainly changed.

"I'm happy."

Draco just nodded.

The two men just stared at each other from across the room, a new understanding between the two of them. Draco cleared his throat, breaking the moment before motioning towards the door.

"I should be going."

Harry nodded. As Draco took the door knob and opened the door slightly, he stopped, and looked back over his shoulder.

"I never asked, Potter. Why did you help us?"

Harry rubbed his forehead out of habit and smiled.

"Funnily enough, I knew I'd miss your sallow complexion; I've become rather accustomed to it over the years."

* * *

><p>"Why didn't you tell me?" George asked as he charmed the dishes to wash themselves in the sink. He turned around and leaned against the work surface. Harry had his back to him on the sofa bed; he could see him picking at the unravelled threads on his blanket.<p>

"I didn't think it was that important," he said quietly.

"Really? Because it kind of is,"

No answer.

Exasperated, George left the kitchen and strode over to sit right in front of Harry, "that's not even the point; Harry, we haven't ever kept anything from each other,"

Harry looked right at him, right into him.

"We are completely open with each other," he paused and exhaled, "that was one of the main reasons I fell in love with you,"

"I was worried, okay?" Harry said stubbornly. George frowned.

"About what?"

"That you'd hate me for it," he said looking away from George now. George saw him start to pull at the strands more violently. Soon enough it would be just a pile of threads. "After everything that family have done to your family, I thought you'd think I was betraying you."

George couldn't believe it. He stared at him in disbelief, his brow furrowed.

"How could you think I'd hate you?" he said, taking Harry's hands in his like he always did, "Do you really think that little of me?"

Harry went back to looking at him for a moment, but he'd visibly relaxed. His face screwed up in realisation and annoyance with himself.

"I'm an idiot, aren't I?"

George smacked his arm.

"Yes. You are," he pulled him into a hug, "no more secrets, please," he mumbled.

"Right back at you," Harry mumbled back. George pulled away, puzzled. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Don't look at me like that! You failed to mention that you and Malfoy got all friendly when I was in hospital!"

George grinned mischievously and moved in closer to Harry with his arms still around him.

"Jealous?"

Harry discovered that he had regained enough strength to be able to throw George off the bed.

* * *

><p>George was woken by a humming, an accumulation of what seemed to be voices coming from somewhere distant.<p>

With a groan, he removed his arm which was draped over a sleeping Harry's chest, and swung his legs off the mattress. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.

What the _Hell _was that noise?

Groggily, he forced himself up and followed the sound of the voices. They were coming from outside.

He plodded towards the window, his eyes still heavy with sleep, and blocking them from the painful morning light, he drew back the thick curtains.

"What the-?"

The volume of voices surged upwards. No longer sleepy, George's eyes widened as he took in Diagon Alley below him.

The street was packed with reporters, photographers, protesters and supporters all yelling his name. He sharply closed the curtains, and spun around still holding them behind his back.

It suddenly occurred to him that Harry had never had _this_ before; he'd always had the protection of Hogwarts, the Burrow or the Dursley's. The shop in Diagon Alley was so much more accessible, and considering this news was about Harry Potter's love life after winning the war, of course they would go crazy.

His eyes shut and his head tilted back, hitting the window with a thud. Judging by the amount of bulbs flashing there would now be a half naked photo of him in every newspaper and magazine in the Wizarding world.

His Mum will be so proud.

"Whassgoin'non?" Harry mumbled with his face now in the pillow.

George's eyes opened and he chuckled, his chin dropping to his chest.

"Let's just say we're not going to be able to open the shop today."

* * *

><p>Ron and Neville were the only two people who managed to get in.<p>

They'd apparated to the shop doorstep, been dragged backwards into the mob, fought and pushed their way back forward, and as fast she could, George wrenched the door open, yanked the two of them in, and slammed the door before anyone else could get in.

They were now collapsed on top of Harry on the sofa bed.

"They've guessed you've left the hospital because they're not seeing any of us coming to visit you anymore," Ron mumbled into Harry's arm.

"Yeah, and someone must have tipped them off that you are living here and not at the Burrow," Neville said into Ron's back.

George stood observing leaning against the counter, angry at the situation, if not slightly amused at the sight before him.

He supposed he should move them off Harry so that they didn't hurt him…nah, it was too funny.

"We're just going to have to try and ignore it, but if they stay outside much longer, I'm calling the Aurors," he said, putting his mug down.

"Good idea," Neville grunted as Harry rolled him off his body and onto the floor.

"Wanna make me some tea?" Ron tried hopefully as he was also pushed off Harry. George folded his arms.

"Take a wild guess,"

"Uhh, yes?"

"You've got arms and legs, make it yourself."


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: First of all, I am very, very sorry this has taken so long, life is extremely hectic at the moment, and when I do have free time I'm too tired to do anything. But here's a longer chapter for you to say sorry, please forgive me. I think this is nearly it, I'm quite confident that the next chapter will be the last, and I will let you know in the author's note if it is. Thanks for all reviews, favourites, follows, etc. and more than anything I want to improve and know what you think, so if you could review I would really appreciate it. Thanks and I'll try and be quicker with the next chapter :) **

* * *

><p>Harry and George left the flat and shop as little as possible over the next two weeks. The press had done the story to death and were pretty much leaving well alone, but the two of them were still very wary over whether people would really be so accepting.<p>

They'd stopped reading the letters; they knew some of them would be lovely and kind and supportive, but it was just becoming too much to sort through it all.

George and Ron were able to open the shop again, and if they got the odd reporter or idiot who came in and made some comment, they kicked them out on their arses easily enough.

Harry was virtually back to his old self; he was walking around the flat fine on his own and generally doing a lot more himself. Yes he was still tired most of the time, and couldn't be up and about too much before he'd start to feel weak again, but the improvements were coming fast.

In fact, he had a proposition.

"I have something to tell you," he said to George nervously, who was lying next to him on the sofa bed exhausted from a particularly busy day.

"Okay, what is it?" he grumbled.

Harry braced himself.

"But I just want to say, don't freak out," he said raising his hands in a calming fashion. George sat up abruptly.

"I wasn't going to, but now you've said that I might. Harry what is it?"

"Okay, but just don't fre-,"

"Harry just tell the man already," Ron interrupted from the armchair. George looked at him in gratitude.

"Okay," Harry took a deep breath, "As soon as I'm better, I want to become an Auror again."

George blinked.

"No."

"What?"

"Harry, there is no way in Hell I'm letting you go back to that danger."

Harry was outraged and moved away from George.

"You won't _let_me? Hate to break it to you George, but you don't own me,"

"If you think I'm going to stay at home, sick with worry the whole time you're out risking your life, you've got another thing coming!" George told him, folding his arms. Harry mirrored his position but more aggressively.

"You're the one who originally told me to become one!"

"But I didn't know you would be in a coma for months!"

"That's a bit naïve isn't it?"

"Can I say something?" Ron cut in.

"No!"

"Fine," Harry said, ignoring George. Ron looked strangely nervous and George found himself becoming even more worried.

"I've been thinking about this for a while now. While you were in a coma Harry, I was scared, yet so angry. Not just with Dolohov, but with myself. If I'd become an Auror with you, I could have been there to help,"

"Ron-,"

"No, let me finish," he said shaking his head as Harry went to interrupt, "I promised myself that if you died, I would become an Auror and stop that from happening to anyone else. And I also promised myself that if you lived, then I would become an Auror with you, and not let anything like that happen to _you_ ever again."

George broke the silence that followed his brother's words.

"And when were you planning on telling me this?"

Ron just shrugged.

George took a moment to think; he knew he was being selfish but he felt like he was allowed to be for once. But then again, even though Ron was pretty hopeless, he'd grown up a lot, and George didn't doubt for a second that he would always keep an eye on Harry, and of course, Harry would always have his back as well. It would be good for the both of them.

He looked at Harry who was waiting for an answer.

Merlin, he was going to regret this.

Feigning a cross look, he sighed and shook his head.

"Okay."

* * *

><p>George was strolling down Diagon Alley late one night about a week later, his hands laden with bags of potions ingredients. Looking up at the stars, he hummed to himself and smiled; he'd be home with Harry soon. He sped up a bit, wanting to get back quickly so they could have a quiet night in together.<p>

But suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in between his shoulder blades and as the bags flew out of his hands, he fell forward and smacked his forehead on the stone street.

Groaning, he tried to push himself up before he was roughly pushed back down, and felt a heavy, booted foot on the small of his back. He howled in pain as someone else stamped their foot down hard on his ankle with a sickening crunch.

Gritting his teeth as the foot on his back pressed harder still, he heard a horrible, amused male laugh, and a nasty girlish giggle.

"_Fag_,"

George didn't wait for more abuse.

Enraged, he managed to pull his wand from his trouser pocket, and stretched his arm behind him, aiming hexes in their general direction. Hearing a grunt that confirmed he'd reached his target, and feeling the foot lift slightly, he rolled himself over, forcing the man off his back and sprung up, keeping his weight on one foot and ignoring the pounding in his head.

He hadn't survived a war on luck.

He fired jinxes at the now fleeing pair, trying to recognise the one hulking shape and the other slender female one; he was fairly certain he didn't know them.

Angry at himself for letting them get away, he fell against a wall and pounded the brick, breathing heavily.

He waited for his rage to subside and the nausea to go, but this allowed the pain to take over as his adrenalin faded. Ignoring it and keeping himself supported as much as possible, he began to stagger home, leaving his newly bought wares in a scattered mess across the deserted alley.

* * *

><p>"Oh my God, George, what happened!"<p>

Harry threw his Quidditch book aside and began to push himself off the sofa as a bleeding and exhausted George crashed into the flat, his face sweaty, bloody and screwed up in pain as he leant heavily on the door handle.

"Stay down, I'm fine,"

"You're bloody well not!" Harry said as he headed over to help, but George swiped him away, hissing as he half limped, half fell across the entire living room to lean onto the kitchen counter.

Harry watched as he reached up to the cupboard and pulled out a few potions, downing them as he tried to stifle the bleeding in his head at the same time.

Finally snapping out of his trance, Harry strode to the sink, ran a towel under the tap and pushed it to George's forehead.

"We need to get you to St. Mungo's,"

"No we don't," George dismissed the idea quickly, "I'm fine," he argued, pushing Harry away as he held the towel in place himself.

"No, you're obviously not, you idiot! Look at you!"

"Harry, leave it, I'm okay. Just a couple of spells and I'll be as good as new-,"

"Who did this to you?"

George stopped for a beat.

"I don't know," he answered quietly. Harry clenched his fists in anger, George's pale, ill-looking face, bringing out the protectiveness inside him that hadn't emerged in a while.

"This is my fault,"

"No, Harry!" George said sternly, flinging himself around to face Harry. "No."

"So if you weren't with me, this still would have happened?"

George looked like he wanted to answer, but he couldn't and he knew it.

"Harry don't do this. I'll be fine in the morning okay?" he said as he pushed himself up onto the work surface and pointed his wand at his ankle, wincing at the pain and rather sickening noises of bones snapping back into place. Harry watched as George removed the towel and aimed his wand at his forehead, watching the skin close up slowly, and the deep creases in his brow after as he concentrated. Even at a time like this, Harry couldn't help but admire him.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

"During the war, me and Fred were quite active in the Order and decided we better learn some healing stuff," he said when he finished, flexing his ankle, "Harry, please don't blame yourself for this,"

"It's my fault though-,"

"Merlin, Harry not again," he said jumping down from the counter, and placed his hands on Harry's cheeks, "I'm _fine_, I can look after myself."

But that was the thing, Harry didn't want him to have to look after himself, he didn't want him to have to be in danger and constantly have to watch his back. He wanted him to be able to live a normal and happy life. Merlin knew, he deserved it. And he could never have that with Harry.

He knew what he had to do. His heart began to beat harder and faster, and he suddenly felt very, very dizzy and it took all his self control not to pull George towards him and never let him go.

But he didn't. Instead, he put on a smile, and rubbed George's arm affectionately.

"I know. Look, why don't you go to bed? You've had quite an ordeal,"

George chuckled, clearly satisfied that the problem was solved and yawned.

"Yeah, good idea. You coming too?"

"Not quite yet," Harry said, smiling still, "I will in a bit."

"Okay, don't be too long though," George said, and after a quick kiss on the cheek, he turned and limped away into the bedroom.

Harry barely himself from running after him. But it was time to stop being selfish.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:** **Firstly, thank you to every single person who reviewed, followed/favourited this story, everything. I appreciate every single one of you. Thank you for being patient with me and for keeping with this. One last review of the chapter or fic overall would be wonderful. This is a very, very special fic for me, because I love this pairing more than I can say, and if you're ever inspired to write a George/Harry fic, DO IT PLEASE, there isn't enough out there. The reason this fic is so important to me is because I believe that if you are simply there for someone, you can make the world of difference, and I want you all to remember that because you can save someone's life, by just being there for them to talk to. I haven't got any WIP fics at the moment on , but I have about two or three on my computer that I think may be up soon, for different pairings, so if you're interested watch this space. Also if you have any suggestions for pairings for me to write about, just pop one in a review and I'll consider it. Once again, thank you all so much and I really hope you like the last chapter, it's extra long xxxxxxx**

* * *

><p>When George woke up the next morning, he stretched his still abused limbs and was a little surprised when his arm met nothing but air beside him. He quickly opened his eyes to look for the familiar small shape that was his partner, but saw no one.<p>

Where was Harry?

When he quickly got up and left the bedroom to see the rest of the flat empty, that was when the panic started to rise.

He flew down the stairs towards the shop; also empty. He ran his fingers through his hair. No he wasn't going to freak out, he was just overreacting. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he hastened from the shop, and disapparated.

* * *

><p>"Mum! Ron! Anyone!"<p>

"Yes dear, what's wrong?" Molly appeared from the living room, looking puzzled and slightly anxious at George who had just burst into the Burrow kitchen rather dramatically.

"Is Harry here?"

"No, he's not," she said frowning, "is he missing?"

George once again raked his fingers through his hair.

"I can't find him, no."

Molly paled.

"That bloody boy…" she muttered, "RON!"

"WHAT?"

"Oh bloody hell," George mumbled, covering his face with his hands.

"DOWN HERE NOW PLEASE! BRING HERMIONE AS WELL!"

"I DON'T SEE WHY…"

Brilliant, George thought, they'd get nowhere.

As Ron entered scowling followed closely by Hermione who was rolling her eyes, George cut to the chase.

"Has Harry talked to you?"

"What, today? No,"

"Same here," Hermione added, "why?"

"I can't find him, he's gone off; got some stupid ideas in his head again,"

Ron sighed and closed his eyes.

"Git."

"George, what happened to you?" Hermione asked quietly, taking in his appearance with a worried frown. George rubbed his forehead.

"Just a run in with some intolerant idiots, don't worry about it," he said swatting his now concerned mother away, "I need to find him and bring him to his senses."

"We'll check the Leaky Cauldron," Hermione said as Ron took her hand and began to lead her outside. George began to rack his brains for where Harry might be, literally shaking his head and massaging his temples. He squeezed his eyes shut, _think George, think_.

"Georgie, calm down," he felt his mother's gentle touch on his arm and forced himself to relax, his muscles losing their tension and his eyes fluttering open. "Good boy. Now, where would he be?"

And then it came to him.

Without delay, he hugged his Mum tightly, and left his childhood home.

* * *

><p>"George-,"<p>

"I know he's here."

Andromeda's surprised expression transformed into a stony exterior, strikingly reminiscent of her sister Narcissa, but George could see the fight going on inside her in her eyes. She pursed her lips.

"He's trusted me to-,"

"You know as well as I do that he's being silly, Andromeda please help me."

For the first time, Andromeda's expression showed how sorry she was, he could see how this was killing her. She knew Harry was being silly too, and he was fairly certain she would love more than anything to step aside and let him in to strangle her grandson's Godfather. Maybe, just maybe, she'd give in…

"I'm sorry, George."

Looking sorrowful, she stepped back into the hallway, and shut the door, leaving George feeling quite empty, but none the less determined.

He wasn't giving up that easily.

* * *

><p>Harry held Teddy close, trying to block out the exchange he'd just overheard. He'd managed not to run to the door at the sound of George's voice, he'd managed not to call out to him or Andromeda and tell her he'd changed his mind and to let him in.<p>

But he had managed to control himself.

He heard her shut the door and quickly went back to looking at Teddy. He could sense her enter the room, but pretended not to know, avoiding her gaze.

"You're an absolute idiot, you know that?"

He looked up quickly from his cross-legged position on the floor; she was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded. He'd gotten to know her very well and they'd become close, and he certainly cared about what she thought, but he couldn't help but feel a little angry with her.

"What do you mean?" he said frowning.

"Come on Harry. You are so unbelievably lucky to have found George and to have each other…and for goodness sake, not everything is your fault!" She exclaimed, "The only reason I didn't let George in is because you asked me to and I believe you need to sort this out yourself. Harry, you need to stop blaming-,"

He'd heard enough.

"I'm going upstairs," he stood up and pushed Teddy into Andromeda's arms who looked shocked at his abruptness, but he didn't want to hear it. Without looking back, he headed upstairs to the guest room.

As he shut the door behind him, he fell down on the bed and bunched the thick duvet in his hands. He'd just sleep, sleep and forget it all.

Just as he was dozing off a few minutes later, he heard a rapping at the window. He sat up to see a rather angry looking George hovering outside. His eyes wide with disbelief, he hurried to the window and pushed it open.

"What the hell are you-,"

He was cut off as George on his broomstick flew rather ungracefully through the small window. After navigating the Cleansweep through the small space, he jumped off and threw it aside. He stood across the room breathing heavily, and just stared at Harry.

Eventually, he lifted his hands slightly in confusion and dropped them down again.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Can you leave please?"

"No," George folded his arms. He shrugged, "Not without you I'm not."

"George, I don't want this, for me or for you. I'm just going to make things hard for you-,"

George's arms dropped and his expression turned impatient and exasperated.

"_Why _are you so _stupid_!"

"Get out."

"Harry, for Merlin's sake, please listen to me!"

"George, I am doing this because I don't want to see you hurt!"

George just stood and looked at him.

"You're so frustrating, you know that?"

Harry just looked mournfully away from him.

Why couldn't he stop being so bloody difficult?

"Fine," he said eventually, and Harry looked up sharply in shock, "but I'm not giving up." And with that, he grabbed the broom, pushed past Harry and clambered out of the window.

Harry stayed watching him until he sank away into nothing.

What the hell _was _wrong with him? He was pushing away the person he needed most. But _because_ he was the person he needed most.

It was for the best.

He tried to fight the wetness welling in his eyes, which only grew as he became angrier with himself. He pushed his thumb and forefinger against his eyelids, frustration building.

_Stop it_, he thought.

When he looked back up again, he thought for a moment that George was coming back, but as the shape in the sky drew closer he realised it wasn't George, but a large tawny owl. He stepped aside and it swooped straight into the room and perched regally on the bed frame.

Hastily, he untied the letter from its leg and with a hoot for good measure, it glided back out of the window.

Harry fumbled with the note before he recognised the Minister for Magic's seal. Once he finally got to the letter, he scanned it.

They'd caught Dolohov.

The funny thing was, he almost didn't care anymore.

He was just so, so tired.

He curled into a ball on his bed, wiped away the last of his tears, and slept like a baby.

* * *

><p>"You ready?" Ron gave his older brother what George guessed was supposed to be an encouraging smile. George nodded nevertheless, ignoring the butterflies that seemed to be doing bloody aerobatics in his stomach. Ron nodded back, and stood up at the pedestal to address the huge crowd of reporters, photographers and civilians.<p>

"Uh, excuse me!" he attempted, but the thunderous noise of excited voices continued. "Excuse me!" Ron remained ignored.

Neville rolled his eyes at George, and put his wand to his throat muttering _Sonorus_.

"OI! LISTEN UP!"

Clearly those who had been present at the final battle were remembering Neville's slaying of Nagini because the silence fell rather quickly at his command.

"Alright," he cleared his throat, "Basically, I arranged this so that I could set some things straight. I know what you all think, well, most of you anyway. You think that I'm using Harry, that I only want him for his fame, money, all that rubbish. Clearly you have no idea who I am or what I'm really like. I wasn't even gay before I fell for Harry, it was just after the war…everything seemed to fall into place and finally make sense to me, and Harry too, and for _Merlin's sake people_, doesn't the guy deserve some peace? I genuinely _don't care_ about all that stuff with Harry, for me it's just…him. He's always been famous, he's always been rich, and bear in mind I'm not doing too badly at the moment with the business, and those things have never bothered me; to be honest he was always my brother's best friend and one of my really good mates. Why would I suddenly think 'Ooh! Rich! Famous! I'll have him!' when he would probably be even more messed up than _me _after the war."

The crowd chuckled; and that was when George spotted him, in the small lapse of humour he looked out and there he was.

There he bloody was.

"And those of you who think I'm just plain bad or wrong for him, then fair enough, each to their own, but hear me out. My life is just…right with Harry. I can't explain it really, it's just really strange to think of a time when I didn't feel this way. For those of you who don't know, I lost my twin brother in the war, Fred…and Harry was just there, he helped me through it and still is. We care about each other, we understand each other and in times of great need, we are _there _for each other, and at the end of the day, that's all that matters. And if you can't handle that," he shrugged, "well then you can sod off."

As laughter and a few cheers and whoops erupted, George only had eyes for Harry who was grinning from ear to ear. He smirked back and his body flooded with a warmth.

He'd got through to the silly git.

He knew Harry wasn't just going to stop blaming himself; he knew people weren't just going to leave them alone and accept them after one lousy speech.

But this was it now. He knew it.

As he continued to watch Harry's smiling face, he just knew it. Whatever life threw at them, he would face it.

And hell, he was going to face it with the man he loved, if it was the last thing he ever did.


End file.
